#taxi a verona

[verona2314]

Judgment of the Damned (translation) PART IV

Link part III

Summary:

In the realm of Limbo, where souls deemed too good for Hell but not virtuous enough for Heaven reside, Victoria finds herself thrust into an unprecedented mission. When a notorious sinner, Sir Pentious, achieves redemption and ascends to Heaven, it sends shockwaves through all realms. Tasked with unraveling this mystery, Victoria, a minor judge of souls, is sent to the infamous Hazbin Hotel in Hell. For the first time, an emissary from Limbo steps foot into the fiery depths, tasked with observing and judging the denizens of Hell for their potential for redemption. As Victoria navigates this unfamiliar territory, she captures the unrequired attention of the enigmatic Radio Demon, Alastor. Amidst the chaos of demonic antics and the pursuit of understanding redemption, Victoria must confront her own beliefs and judgments. As she delves deeper into the secrets of the Hazbin Hotel, Victoria uncovers hidden truths about sinners, redemption, and the ultimate fate of souls caught between damnation and salvation. With each soul she encounters, Victoria's journey becomes not only a quest for answers but a personal voyage of self-discovery in the heart of darkness.

Chapter 4: Rumors from the Past

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Hey, its me "Verona". I just want to say a liiitle thing before you start your reading....I must say, this chapter was quite a challenge to translate due to the archaic English in which Zestial should speak. In advance, I apologize. I hope you enjoy the chapter. Love u! (Yep. Spanish is my native language, and yes, there is a Spanish version of this work.)

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Angeldust

His body ached all over, as was customary after a day of filming with Valentino. Ever since their little disagreement at the bar, the bastard hadn't given him a moment's rest. He was beginning to wonder if he could keep this up forever, or if he should start imagining the impossible and find a way to free himself from that contract. He shifted uncomfortably in the taxi seat. He needed a good shower.

After a few more minutes of travel, the vehicle stopped outside the hotel. Angel got out and looked up at the building. He hated to admit it, but that place had become a space where he felt safe, relaxed, and happy. A place he always wanted to return to... a home. He shook his head slowly, smiling as he walked towards the hotel. They had really softened him up. Maybe he could buy those lunatics something nice.

He opened the door, stepping into the hotel. The lobby was completely dark and everything was silent. That struck him as odd. Suddenly, he felt someone lunging at him and putting a sack over his head. He tried to break free but his attacker was too strong. He fell to the ground where his arms were tied.

"WHO ARE YOU? WHAT ARE YOU DOING? HELP!" he exclaimed as he was dragged into a room. His assailant leaned him against a wall and removed the sack from his head. Angel looked around and saw Niffty to his right, also tied up. To his left, Husk was in the same condition. "What's going on?"

"Relax," Husk replied irritably.

Angel wanted to ask more but at that moment, he saw someone entering the room.

"Alright," said Vaggie, "now that I have you all gathered here, there's an important matter to discuss."

"Vaggie? What the hell is wrong with you! Why did you tie us up? Have you gone mad?" shouted Angel, feeling indignant. Just moments ago, he had felt so relieved to have returned to the hotel and now this.

"I apologize for the extreme measure, but I needed to have you all gathered without causing a mess. There's something very important you need to know, and you must not speak of it outside of this hotel under any circumstances," Vaggie said in a very serious tone. "There's no simple way to say this. We have a very important guest in the hotel and it's crucial to make a very good impression on her, so you must behave. Niffty, don't stab insects in front of this person, Husk, try to be less gloomy, and Angel, don't be so…horny.

"Can I step on the bugs in front of her?" Niffty asked. "Besides, ever since I started the war in the attic, there aren't as many."

"Ugh, sure," Vaggie replied.

"Who is this soooo important person?" Angel grumbled. He didn't want to have to watch his behavior in a place he considered his home. "I mean, we tried to act well when Charlie's father came, and everything went fine. In the end, we didn't even have to keep up appearances. Why would it be different this time?"

"Angel, please, you have to listen to me this time," Vaggie responded.

"I think we deserve a better explanation. I agree with leggies," Husk said. Vaggie sighed.

"Fine. But as I already told you, this must be kept secret. Limbo is real, and a minor judge from there is staying here. She will be studying sinners, making a report on them, and determining the chances of redemption. In short."

The room fell silent as they watched Vaggie, processing the information.

"Vaggie," Angel said softly, "What the hell did you smoke?"

Vaggie let out a frustrated growl before speaking again. "Fine. Let's start over. I'll explain everything. But please, we have to help Charlie

Victoria

She woke up with her face resting on the documents. She looked around a little disoriented. It was barely nightfall. She couldn't believe she had fallen asleep. She couldn't afford to nap when she had so much work ahead of her. Her eyes still felt sleepy. Perhaps it wasn't a bad idea to get up and walk around the hotel to shake off the laziness.

She stretched in her seat before getting up and leaving the room. It was a relief to be able to wander the place freely without the deer-ears guy nearby. The decoration of the place was very beautiful and sophisticated. The place gleamed now that it had been reconstructed following Adam's attempt to eradicate these sinners. Victoria struggled to understand how anyone could take pleasure in destroying souls, but, well, Cain must have inherited his temperament from somewhere.

She descended to the first floor via the main staircase, admiring the magnificent chandelier hanging over the hall. Suddenly, she could notice a strange movement among the crystals and bulbs. A kind of red spot moved with agility. She squinted trying to understand what she was seeing. At that moment, she collided head-on with someone.

"I'm so sorry!" exclaimed a boy. His appearance reminded her of a spider.

Victoria mentally reviewed the files she had read. The person in front of her was a resident of the hotel... Angeldust, real name Anthony. "Don't worry, I wasn't paying attention to where I was walking," she responded amiably.

"No, I insist. Let me make it up to you. How about a massage?" Angel replied nervously. "It'll release all your tension! Not in a sexual way! Ah, it's not that you're not attractive, but you're just not my type. Not that there's anything wrong with you. I mean, it's bad that you're not... No! That's not what I meant. I like to... you know... but not with you. It's just that..."

Victoria listened to Angel's verbal diarrhea, bewildered. What the hell was he talking about? She couldn't make sense of anything, let alone why he was acting so nervous.

"I could massage your feet. Not that I have a weird fetish!"

"Angel, don't say anything else," interrupted a gruff voice from a demon with feline features. Victoria searched her memory again. That must be Husk. The hotel's bartender subtly moved her away from Angel with his wings. "Uh, um, Judge, how about a magic trick?"

Had he just called her judge? Now everything made sense. "No, no. Don't worry. Hey, I know what this is all about."

"Damn it, Husk, you called her judge," grumbled Vaggie, entering the room.

"Look," Victoria began in a friendly tone, "it's really not necessary for you to try to pamper or flatter me. I'm not here with any ill intentions or prejudices. I hope you can treat me like anyone else, without thinking about my judge status. Which I had hoped would remain confidential. But it doesn't matter. I trust I'll have a very good opinion of all of you."

As soon as she finished speaking, something struck her head. She looked down and saw it was a shard of crystal.

"Watch out!" Vaggie shouted, pushing her aside just as the chandelier crashed down from the ceiling with a loud bang. Victoria sat on the floor, observing the scene. Vaggie had managed to evade the impact. From the ruins of the fixture emerged a small woman with a large eye, who laughed nervously.

"Sorry. I was cleaning the crystals. Uh... does this count as attempted murder if it was accidental, right?"-Niffty said. 

"This is fucked up already. Judge Victoria, welcome to the Hazbin Hotel, where this shit will be your daily life," Husk growled, opening a beer can and leaving the foyer. "I'm not cleaning up that shit."

"What a relief, I couldn't keep up with this forced smile anymore. How the hell does Alastor do it?" Angel added, following Husk.

"Well, Judge," Vaggie said, standing up, "at least they tried."

Alastor

The meeting with the Overlords turned out somewhat predictable. It was evident that Carmilla would be on alert for the potential repercussions following Adam's death. Hell had defended itself adequately for the first time, and that was unprecedented. Overall, the entire meeting revolved around obtaining weapons, planning measures in case of another attack, unity, strength, and similar matters.

But Alastor's mind was focused on more interesting affairs. He knew the judge wouldn't give him much information about... anything. He had already learned that she was a stubborn, reserved, composed, and very intelligent woman. Her witty responses irritated him but were also refreshing. Perhaps deep down, he hoped to have another confrontation with her, but this time, more prepared.

As the congregation neared its end, Alastor directed his gaze towards today's target, Zestial. The ancient being returned his gaze with curiosity. The radio demon simply smiled even wider. It's not that he particularly relished the idea of interacting with that Overlord, but if anyone had answers, it was him. Of course, he had to be careful with his words, as he didn't want anyone else trying to approach the judge, for now. No. It was convenient to keep her presence in hell a secret for the time being. It didn't take a genius to understand that someone like her could be a very important card to play. And…Under no circumstances could he underestimate Zestial, as he was very skilled at noticing subtleties.

"Very well. Does anyone want to add anything?" Carmilla declared before concluding the meeting. As everyone began to leave, Alastor didn't even manage to get up from his seat before he immediately felt a presence behind him.

"Greetings, Alastor," Zestial spoke with that characteristic resonant voice of his. "I knoweth not if mine senses art dulled, but I deem I hath perceived thou didst seek to engage in discourse with me." 

Alastor emitted a slight laugh. "Always so perceptive, Zestial. You're correct. Will you have a few minutes before you go to your teatime with the esteemed Carmilla?"

Carmilla watched them from the doorway of the meeting room. Zestial nodded to her, who, at such a gesture, left the room, closing the door behind her. The ancient being took a seat opposite him and observed him with great interest.

“Very well, Alastor, thou hast mine full attention. I must say, our discourse is always... captivating.-Said the Overlord.

"Oh, Zestial, I hope not to disappoint you. I just wanted to ask you about a matter that seems more myth than reality," Alastor replied in a casual tone. Zestial seemed more intrigued. "Well, I won't keep you on the edge of your seat any longer. How true is what they say about Limbo?"

Zestial narrowed his eyes and his smile widened. Alastor didn't expect that reaction. He thought the Overlord would laugh and say that stories about Limbo were just children's tales

"Dear friend, I implore thee not to fall into the error of the majority, thinking that all concerning Limbo is mere invention. For in every fable lies a grain of truth. I suppose thou hast heard what is commonly said. That Limbo, also known as the intermediary realm, is where souls go that are not sinful enough to merit hell, yet not virtuous enough to enter heaven. But in its origins, there was more. But of course, I would like to know, why dost thou show interest in this matter?"

"These are personal matters. Perhaps I could refrain from giving you details if, in exchange for your knowledge, I were to resolve a certain inconvenience Carmilla is dealing with... and what difficulties, I must say!" responded Alastor as he playfully moved his fingers. What he was doing was somewhat risky. But it was worth it.

Zestial emitted a deep chuckle. "I note thou art well-informed. Aye, 'tis true that a new pest hath arisen, seeking to snatch Carmilla's market. Naught that we cannot resolve."

"Oh, but this way I spare you the hassle and the time. I believe it's fair, considering I'm merely asking for some unverified information," Alastor said, and he and Zestial locked eyes for a brief moment. The radio demon knew he couldn't show even a hint of doubt or greater interest in the matter.

"Very well," Zestial finally responded. "Be that as it may, I reckon that sooner or later I shall uncover thy true intentions…In mine early years here in the inferno, 'twas spoken that when the heavens were forged, Limbo stood as a neutral ground to settle disputes and judge the angels' conduct. 'Twas only the supreme judges present then. But in general, there weren't many issues until the incident o' the apple. From that moment forth, with the inception o' hell, Limbo would become the intermediary 'twixt heaven and hell. Not merely for receiving souls, but also for resolving grave disputes 'tween both realms, akin to an international court. With this evolution came the minor judges. On one hand, the supreme judges continued their role as an international court, alongside judging mortal souls. On the other hand, the minor judges were tasked with settling conflicts 'mongst inhabitants of the same domain that couldn't be resolved internally, serving as an appellate body. Of course, they also bore the duty of crafting records of human deeds upon the Earth. But that part's well-known to all."

"Interesting. So, if two angels had a problem they couldn't resolve themselves, could they turn to a minor judge to decide the matter?" Alastor asked to make sure he was getting it all.

"Indeed," Zestial replied, conjuring a teacup before taking a brief sip before continuing, "But you must already know that there weren't as many issues in heaven. The spotlight was on hell, not for murders or thefts, but for something more subtle: contracts." Zestial looked at Alastor attentively, trying to gauge his reaction, but the radio demon remained unfazed. "Supposedly, a minor judge had the power to modify or annul a contract, of course, adhering to the rules or laws of hell."

"Hmm? Contracts, you say?" Alastor prompted Zestial to continue.

"Aye, that's what was told in my time. It was also said that a catastrophic event occurred, causing the Limbo's communications to shut down from their end. However, Alastor, processes don't vanish. The mere fact that Limbo has isolated itself doesn't imply that there's no longer an avenue for appeal."

"Oh, but if that were true, we would still have demons trying to make appeals," Alastor pointed out, resting his chin on his intertwined hands.

“That's the other curious bit. Allegedly, they wiped out all who knew of that process to let it fade away. Does the appeals process truly not exist, or is it just that no one knows how to activate it anymore?”.

Alastor looked silently at Zestial. He couldn't determine if the ancient creature believed in those stories or not. But if that process really existed... perhaps. Unfortunately, he still had no way to verify it. Alastor inclined his head before speaking again, "Well. We can't really know. Anyway, all of this is just legends. It doesn't sound like these minor judges are very strong."

“Perhaps they don't have great destructive power, but it certainly was useful to have one as an ally. In addition to being able to modify or annul a contract, they also had access to the information of all sinners and angels. On the other hand, every judge has two basic powers. The oath and The mandate of the judge.”

"The oath?" Alastor asked, feigning disinterested tone. He was surprised at how enthusiastic Zestial seemed about this topic.

“Indeed. If a minor judge asked you to swear an oath and you agreed, you were bound to speak the truth. If you were to lie, the judge would detect it immediately and, if desired, could inflict great pain upon you as a consequence.”

“And the other one?”

"Ah, the judge's mandate? Or rather, known as the command. Basically, it entails the judge exercising their authority by issuing an order that cannot be disobeyed, as if a force were controlling your body. Of course, the scope and strength of this mandate depend on the power and rank of the judge. The mandate of a minor judge is usually not very strong, limited to simple commands like 'sit' or 'be silent', essential for maintaining order in a court, thus not very enduring. But that of a supreme judge... well, it is said that it was precisely that which condemned Lucifer to hell.”

“Well, I'll give you that. If these judges were real and contact could be made with them, they would clearly be a magnificent ally."

Zestial chuckled maliciously “Precisely, and I reckon all the sinners and demons had the same notion, wouldn't you say? It wouldn't surprise me if the big catastrophe were tied to millions of those minor judges getting corrupted or extorted by the infernal lot to reap benefits from the appeals, changing contracts to their whims. Well, but then again, none of this is quite verifiable or true. Right?”

Alastor didn't like the tone of voice Zestial used in that last sentence. The ancient being was beginning to suspect. Why was he suspicious now? He had been careful with each of his expressions. Could his memory of Victoria asking them for silence during the meeting with Charlie have caused some gesture that caught his interlocutor's attention? Alastor couldn't help but think that that request could have been a judge´s mandate subtly carried out by Victoria, implying that at least one of the powers mentioned by Zestial was true.

Alastor glanced at Zestial again just as he narrowed his eyes. Damn it. It wasn't time to think about that. That damned judge was making things complicated with this Overlord just by appearing in his memories. "Indeed!" he responded in an animated tone, trying to dispel the seriousness of the atmosphere. "After all, they're mere stories."

Zestial chuckled softly, "Yes, but it surprises me that you're wasting your time on mere tales."

"Oh, you all with your theories about me. It's a delight to hear your conspiracies. I simply wanted to satisfy the curiosity that arose in me after reading a dramatic work where they staged this Limbo," Alastor continued nonchalantly as he rose from his seat.

"Verily, I am acquainted with that tome," said Zestial, rising to his feet to accompany Alastor to the door of the conference room. "Indeed, it doth portray Limbo akin to the contemporary lore. Yet, one aspect hath ever intrigued me. Mayhaps I am overly fastidious regarding artistic license."

"What might that be?"

"Well, that literary work mentions seven supreme judges. Not five."

LINK PART V

[katyliz415]

lil nas x said mpreg rights | my favorite songs from the plague year (2!)

2020 playlist | 2019 playlist | 2018 playlist

full tracklist under cut

arizona / ms. white // blaze & sybil's lullaby / ben dickey & alia shawkat // don't wanna / haim // brothers / hanggai // guitar song (live) / frou frou // the wellerman / the norfolk broads // julianna calm down / the chicks // let the tall ships sail / walter martin // my lagan love / the chieftains w/ lisa hannigan // ain't got no (i got life) / nina simone // silver dagger / dolly parton // infatuation / sophie // travelers / andrew prahlow // ode to billie joe / bobbie gentry // all together now / ok go // stil love / great caesar // rooftop dancing / sylvan esso // robert henry / the westerlies // doom days / bastille // in waves / house of waters // thunder clatter / wild cub // dear august / pj harding & noah cyrus // slow dancing / aly & aj // pledging my love / fawn wood // sono inochi / kaho nakamura // harlem / jazzboy // whiskey c'est mon ami / pine leaf boys // fabulous / c.u.t. // hainamady town / toumani diabete & the london symphony orchestra // runaway (guitar acoustic) / aurora // difyrrwch / the trials of cato // with you (a sweet little love song) / valeria june // half a mind / freddy & francine // in his arms / jack ingram, miranda lambert, & jon randall // angel island / the brother brothers // montero (call me by your name) / lil nas x // sahara / debanjan biswas & akshay dabhadkar // symptom of your touch / aly & aj // halfway tree / the east pointers // kiss me more / doja cat & sza // jubilee / the war and treaty // mara / jack garrett / ooh ahh! / miguel // fraulein / colter wall & tyler childers // the medicine man / keb' mo' & old crow medicine show // fruits of my labor / waxahatchee // buzz / maddie medley // whipporwill / chance mccoy // train song / feist and benjamin gibbard // garden / nahko and medicine for the people // down the road / stan rogers // rita mae young / the record company // last laugh / elise davis // empty threat / chvrches // find yourself / lukas nelson and promise of the real // dog in a manger / smooth hound smith // don't lose sight / lawrence // krivo polska / hazelius hedin, esbjorn hazelius, & johan hedin // i wish i was the moon / neko case // pizza day / lucky chops // surefire (piano) / wilderado // pilgrim / john mark mcmillan // live for it / moon taxi // remember when / tinashe // this can't be love / dinah washington // getaway / vincint & tegan and sara // without your love / the paper kites w/ julia stone // breath i breathe / ayla nereo // be and bring me home / neko case // jalebi baby / tesher & jason derulo // colors / black pumas // water me down / vagabon // stay (little dragon remix) / valerie june // shade of yellow / griff // cloudy day / tones and i // wine, beer, whiskey / little big town // song of my returning / phil ochs // skate / silk sonic // magnolia blues / adia victoria // i need my girl / aly & aj // rumors / lizzo feat. cardi b // long tailed winter bird / paul mccartney & idris elba // worry no more / amos lee // can't do much / waxahatchee // butter / bts feat. megan thee stallion // love's been a little bit hard on me / juice newton // devil like me / rainbow kitten surprise // in the image / beverly glenn-copeland // hands up / bent knee // verona (stripped) / geographer // coming home / honne feat. niki // oba, la vem ela / jorge ben jor

[sluttywoozi]

April Shower | jww x f!reader

Wonwoo meets a lot of people through his career as a travel photographer. Not one of them has ever made him want to stay in one place, until he met you.

Rating: M (18+) | WC: ~12.0k Pairing: jww x f!reader | Genre: romance, meet cute, smut, love at first sight

Story Warnings: alcohol and food mention

Smut Warnings: masturbation mention, dirty talk, dom!wonwoo, bigdick!wonwoo, wonwoo’s cold hands, size kink, light thigh slapping, fingering, oral reader rec., overstimulation, slight dumbification, squirting, sexual health/safety talk, unprotected sex (don’t do it), cumming on tits

Reader Notes: has breasts and a vagina, like half a foot shorter than wonwoo, wap, has a cycle to track

AN: written for my bestie @sluttywonwoo’s birthday! kaili, the light you bring to my life is immeasurable and i’m so lucky i’ve gotten to grow with you over the past 7 years 💖

Wonwoo draws in a deep, tremulous breath as he raises the camera to his bespectacled eye, wishing not for the first time that he was anywhere but the city of love. 

This is the second proposal he’s photographed today, the fifth this week, and while he’s always thought himself to be someone who doesn’t mind love, he’s starting to grow a bit… weary. 

His hotel room is obviously meant for two, as were many of the pastas and desserts he’s ordered so far. Everywhere he looks, there are people kissing or hugging or holding hands, their ages ranging from teens in puppy love to folks in their golden years shuffling down the street arm in arm, supporting each other as they have for decades. 

He’s been working as a travel writer for five years, been single just as long, but this is the first time he’s ever found himself feeling lonely. He’s usually restless, never wanting to settle in one place, and he’s almost always solo, reluctant to give himself to someone who might want to keep him. 

Lately, he’s felt a bit differently. Perhaps he’s getting old, outgrowing his bachelor lifestyle. He finds himself wanting to plant roots where before he was nearly offended by the notion of digging any deeper than surface level. 

There’s just something about Verona that begs to be shared, to be experienced with someone else. Maybe it’s the romantic music flowing from the restaurants he passes, maybe it’s the fact that he seems to be the sole single person in this city. Regardless of the cause, he actually feels alone, for the first time in years. 

It’s not a feeling he enjoys, or one he’s familiar with, and as he traverses the cobblestone streets, he almost wishes he was holding someone’s hand instead of the camera he’s carried for most of his life. 

Wonwoo swears out loud when he feels the first drop of rain. He checked the forecast twice this morning, knowing he would be exploring an area a few miles from his hotel and that he wouldn’t be able to return to grab or drop anything off. 

With the weather appearing to be clear and sunny all day, he left his umbrella in his room and headed out to catch his taxi. 

He more than regrets that now, the rain starting to pour and his white button down beginning to soak through. He at least brought his water resistant backpack so for now, his camera is safe, but spending the rest of the day in sodden clothes sounds like actual hell. 

He looks up and down the street frantically, finding only personal residences, not a single shop in sight. 

Until he looks closer and realizes the building at the end of the row has a sign. He can’t read it from this far away, even with his glasses, but the hope is enough to propel him forward. 

He darts down the street, splashing through puddles and swearing again as he feels water permeate his socks. The store comes into view, the sign becoming clearer and clearer the closer he gets. 

Storie d’Amore, it reads. Love stories, of course. He shouldn’t have expected anything else from the city of love. 

“It’s open, thank fuck,” Wonwoo murmurs as he wrenches the door open and steps inside, his clothes dripping all over the hardwood floors. 

He feels terrible tracking rainwater into this store, but he had no other choice. His water resistant bag is only resistant for so long, and his camera is far too valuable to risk. 

He glances around the small room, looking for the owner so he can apologize and instead finding shelves upon shelves of books. He walks slowly, squelches following each step, and reads over the spines. 

He’s shocked to find novels in all kinds of languages, some he recognizes and speaks and some he doesn’t. He’s relatively fluent in five thanks to his years of language classes and traveling, and he has to resist picking up a book in each of the ones he knows. 

He reaches the end of the first shelf, gasping at the large paned window he finds and gasping even louder at the black, tailless cat lounging on the ledge. 

The cat pays him little to no mind, lazily peering at him over their shoulder before curling into a small ball. They blink their big peridot eyes a few times and let out a heavy sigh, settling into sleep faster than Wonwoo could ever hope to. 

Enchanted, he swings his bag around to his front, digging through and pulling out his camera as quietly as possible. 

Even with the mid-April shower, the light coming in through the window illuminates the subtle white notes in the cat’s fur, giving them a glow he begs his camera to capture. 

He crouches until he’s eye level with the cat, holding his breath as he brings the viewfinder up to his eye and presses down the shutter button. 

The cat doesn’t stir, too deep in slumber to register the quiet click. He takes a few more pictures, trying different angles and light settings until he feels he’s gotten every possible combination. 

Maybe it’s stupid, but Wonwoo is more excited to share these photos than nearly any others he’s ever taken. 

Which is why he balks and falls flat on his ass when he hears, “Anubis is a model, you’ll owe us royalties for those.” 

Eyes wide, he looks around wildly to find the source of the words. There’s no one in sight, the store seemingly empty except for him and Anubis. 

“Up here,” the voice calls out, drawing his eye and making his mouth drop open when he finally notices a spiral staircase leading up to a small loft. 

He doesn’t know how he didn’t see it before. He must have been too busy staring at the cat to really take in the rest of the store, and as you slowly step down, he can’t tell if you’re amused or annoyed. What he can tell is that you’re the most beautiful person he’s ever seen, and that he suddenly wants to ask if you believe in love at first sight. 

“I can give you royalties! Please don’t make me delete them,” he pleads, far less embarrassed than he should be by the fact that he’s practically on his knees begging a pretty stranger to let him keep photos he took. 

You reach the landing and make your way toward him, your face unreadable. He’s surprised when you break into a sweet smile and hold your hand out to him. He hugs the camera close to his chest in response, making you roll your eyes and grab his free hand. 

The warmth of your touch is a shock to his system, but he holds back the shiver that wants to roll down his spine as you lean back and tug. Still confused, he lets you help him up, feeling self conscious in his damp clothes. 

He stands a little straighter when he realizes he’s over half a foot taller than you, the height difference giving him back some of his confidence. He’s not sure it should, especially with the unimpressed look you level at him when you set eyes on the trail he tracked through your store. 

“I’m so sorry, I can clean it up if you give me supplies,” he offers, fully serious and almost hoping you’ll say yes just so he can assuage his guilt. 

“These floors have seen worse,” you shrug, leaning down to pet Anubis, and Wonwoo has no idea what that means but he’s not about to ask. He introduces himself instead, shaking the hand still held by yours and repeating your name when you offer it. 

He’s only slightly jealous when you pull away and hook your hands under the cat’s body to draw him into your arms, though whom he’s jealous of, he doesn’t know. 

He would love to be holding the cat, but he has a sneaking suspicion he’d also love to be held by you. 

Your hand was so warm, and so soft, and the rest of you looks just as warm and soft, if not more. 

Anubis snuggles into your arms, his legs stretching and his toes spreading before he tucks them up against your forearm. His eyes go heavy lidded when you start to scratch his head, and now Wonwoo knows who he’s jealous of. 

He hates to admit it but it’s been years since he let someone touch him, and after just a minute or two of knowing you, he’s already hoping you’ll touch him more. He doesn’t know if it’s because you hold Anubis so lovingly, so gently, or if it’s because you have this aura about you that soothes him, or if it’s even because he feels this attraction, this draw to you. Maybe it’s all three. 

All he knows is that something about you makes him want to stay until his clothes are dry and the sun is setting, and then stay a little longer after that. Like for months, or even years, perhaps. 

He’s relieved when you ask if he’d like some tea, directing him over to the small fireplace in the back of the store and nodding to one of the chairs. When he sits, you lean down and plop Anubis in his lap, surprise painting your face when he doesn’t immediately jump down. 

“He’s usually wary of new people,” you hum thoughtfully, watching as the cat gets comfortable on his thighs. He brings his hand up and runs it over his soft fur, beaming up at you when he feels Anubis’s little body start vibrating beneath his palm. 

“I love him,” Wonwoo admits, his voice grave and his eyes open and true behind his glasses. 

You just laugh and say, “Me too,” before disappearing behind a door, leaving him alone with your cat. 

Rain is still barraging the building, the steady sound lulling him into a trance as he pets the sweet being in his lap. The fire warms him quickly, making him realize just how cold he was before, a small shiver attempting to wrack his body again. He keeps it contained to his shoulders, wanting to avoid disturbing Anubis if possible. 

He tells himself it’s just because he wants him to stay, but if he’s being honest, he also hopes that if you see that your cat likes him, then you will too. 

Before long, you return with a tray of steaming mugs, one for him and one for you. You set it carefully on the side table between the chairs, telling him, “I would let it steep for two more minutes. There’s also biscotti, and some crostini if you’re allergic to nuts.”

“Wow, thank you so much,” he breathes, his eyes wide. He’s run into some very nice people on his travels, but it’s been a while since he was met with such hospitality. Here he is, sitting in front of a blazing fire with tea and snacks waiting for him, after dirtying your shop and taking unapproved pictures of your model cat. Cat model?

“So, how much do you expect in royalties?” He asks with trepidation, knowing the magazine he works for is pretty big but maybe not big enough to pay residuals for pictures of a cat. 

You stare at him for a few seconds, squinting your eyes and quirking your head before chuckling, “That was a joke. Bubby isn’t a model, I just think he’s handsome enough to be one.”

“Ohhhh.”

Wonwoo feels himself blush, his cheeks and ears flaring red before he forces out a laugh to try to cover his embarrassment. He’s not used to jokes, usually relying on sarcasm, puns, and situational humor, and he’s a bit ashamed he didn’t realize you weren’t being serious. He stares down at Anubis, petting him softly so he doesn’t have to meet your eyes. 

“Tea should be ready,” you say brightly, picking up your mug with careful hands and kindly allowing him to recover without your gaze on him.

He follows suit, cupping his hands around the hot mug and bringing it to his lips so he can blow gently, huffing when steam fogs up his glasses. He pushes them up into his hair, thinking absentmindedly that he should get it cut soon as he takes his first sip. 

The flavors bloom on his tongue, mint, orange, cinnamon, honey, and something else he can’t put his finger on. It’s the most comforting tea he’s ever had, and he blinks over at you with misty, blurry eyes, sighing, “What is this? I need to buy four tons of it.”

“It’s called Evening Sorrento, it’s one of my favorites,” you smile indulgently, bringing your mug to your lips and drinking slowly before setting it down and reaching for the biscotti. 

He follows your lead, taking a biscuit and dipping it in his tea like you do. The first bite has him groaning in appreciation, dark chocolate, citrus, and almond blending together flawlessly, the taste only enhanced by the tea. 

“What’s the spiciness from?” He asks curiously, taking another sip to try to figure it out himself. 

“Ginger,” you whisper like it’s a secret. “I candied some and put it in the biscotti, too.”

“You made these?” He sounds astonished, he knows, but he almost can’t wrap his head around someone being able to create something so delicious when all he can do is fry an egg. He still burns it half the time, more scared of undercooking than he is of overcooking.

“Yeah, my best friend taught me how, she loves to bake,” you smile sweetly, seemingly pleased to see him enjoying the food you made. 

Anubis stirs, stretching out on Wonwoo’s lap before leaping onto the floor and up into your chair. You murmur, “Hi, baby,” and Wonwoo can’t help but grin as he watches your cat use your arm to pet himself. 

He asks how long you’ve had him, then for pictures when he learns you rescued him as a kitten, gasping softly at the tiny version of the cat as you swipe through photos. The conversation shifts to Wonwoo’s desire to adopt a cat before he explains why he can’t, and the way you look genuinely sad for him makes his heart swell. 

You ask more about his job, about the places he’s been and the things he’s seen, and in turn, he asks how you acquired all of the books in this store. It turns out you have contacts all over the world, friends who send you romance books when they come across them in exchange for a free one when they next come to visit. It seems like the perfect system, allowing you to collect novels in different languages and share them with the people you love. 

Talking to you is so easy that he doesn’t even notice how late it’s grown until you check your phone, a startled expression on your face as you say, “I should have closed half an hour ago.” 

He glances at his watch, blanching at the clock staring back at him. It’s been four hours since he burst into your shop looking for refuge from the downpour, and he doesn’t even know if it’s still raining. The sun has long since set, going down around six PM this time of year, which was over two and a half hours ago. 

He rises swiftly, nervously smoothing out the wrinkles in his slacks and thanking you for your generosity. You stand with him, hugging Anubis to your chest before offering the cat for one last snuggle. Wonwoo takes him carefully, bundling him up against his now dry shirt and smoothing a hand from his head all the way down to the nub at the end of his body. 

He starts purring immediately, the sound audible even over the crackling of the embers, making you smile softly and tell him, “Bubby likes you.”

“I like him,” Wonwoo beams, reluctantly handing the cat over when you stretch your arms out. 

“You love him,” you correct with mirth dancing in your eyes as you walk him to the door.

He peeks out, sighing in relief when he finds that the rain has stopped before turning to you. He almost doesn’t know what to say, goodbye feeling too final, too formal. He thanks you again instead, dragging his feet now that it’s time to leave. 

But he doesn’t want to be rude, or keep you any longer than he already has, so with one last wave and a scritch under Anubis’s chin, he leaves. 

You call out, “Come back soon!” and while he’s sure you say that to all your customers, he can’t help but feel like you mean it. 

Wonwoo has a plan for the day: take the train to Venice, splurge on a gondola ride, and capture as many of the historical buildings as he can while the boat is guided through the canals. 

So why he finds himself standing outside of Storie d’Amore again, he doesn’t know. 

He managed to stay away for two days, hiking all over Verona and taking enough pictures to fill an SD card. He would have made it three if he asked the cab driver to take him to the train station instead of your place of business, but here he is. 

Some part of him wants to rationalize it. He didn’t get any photos of the area because of the rain, just of your (not) model cat, so he’s simply making up for lost time. That still doesn’t explain why he’s staring through the paned glass window at the end of your shop, hoping for a glimpse of you or Anubis. 

Obviously, you’re both here, but he doesn’t see either of you, and he also wants to buy a few books to take home, so it only makes sense that he goes into your store. 

He’s dry this time, thankfully, though he wonders if that means you won’t offer him tea and biscotti again. He can see a few people milling about, pulling books off the shelves to read the summaries and either placing them into mismatched baskets or putting them back. 

He does the same, searching for novels in the languages he knows with the intent of buying one of each. He’s gathered Italian, French, and English when he feels something rub against his leg, looking down to find a black cat staring up at him. 

“Anubis!” Wonwoo grins, leaning down to set the basket to the side so he can pick up his little friend. Holding him to his chest, he feels his heart warm as the purring starts, not even a little mad about the black fur accumulating on his shirt. 

“Oh!” 

He hears you gasp and glances up, smiling shyly at you and shifting to hold Anubis with one arm so he can send you a wave that only feels a little awkward. 

“I didn’t think you’d come back,” you say, stepping closer to him and taking in the basket at his feet and backpack slung over his shoulder. 

“You told me to,” he shrugs sheepishly, suddenly fearing that, “Come back soon,” is something you just say to everyone. 

“I didn’t think you actually would. I thought you’d be gone by now, on to the next destination.” 

He can’t tell if you’re happy to see him or not, but you haven’t kicked him out yet so he doesn’t plan on going anywhere. 

“The next destination can wait. I needed something to read on the plane anyway.” 

“Looks like you found more than just something,” you chuckle, peering closer to check out the titles he’s gathered so far. “All good choices,” you smile up at him, and he feels something unlock in his chest to make space for you. 

“Can I take you out on a date?” He blurts out, his eyes widening and his free hand flying up to cover his mouth. The words escaped without his permission, but he can’t say he wants to take them back. 

You tilt your head and look at him for a little while, like you’re searching for something, and you must find it because your smile grows before you nod and say, “I can close early tonight. Does seven work for you?” 

“It works perfectly,” he breathes after lowering his hand, his heart racing and his body feeling warm for once. 

A customer calls out your name, making you glance over before you turn back and say, “Leave your books at the register and meet me here later?” 

He can only nod, grinning too wide to manage any words. 

“Don’t take my cat, I love that little guy,” you warn him playfully (he thinks) and spin to find the source of the voice. He can hear you speaking in rapid French, easily translating it in his head without even meaning to. They’re asking for your help in choosing between two books, one a tragedy and one a comedy. 

You go over the pros and cons of each genre and offer your own personal opinions on the specific books, making Wonwoo wonder if you’ve read every novel in here. You seemed to recognize the books in his basket and you apparently know the ones this customer is talking about; maybe you read them as you receive them? 

But there are so many, there’s just no way, he thinks, letting Anubis wriggle out of his arms to follow you. He supposes that’s something he can ask you at dinner, the thought bringing a pleased little smile to his face. 

He selects his last two books and wanders over to the checkout counter, stashing his basket on the stool behind it before heading out to get pictures of the neighborhood while he can. 

He’ll be busy tonight, after all.

Wonwoo returns to your shop five minutes before the clock strikes seven. 

He slips in without your notice, making his way to his favorite window and sitting down on the ledge next to Anubis to scroll through the pictures he took while he was out. The cat just sprawls a bit more so his feet are touching Wonwoo’s thigh, the tiny points of connection warming him from the inside out. 

He captured another proposal today, but this one didn’t leave a hollow feeling in his chest like the others. Now that he’s thinking about it, neither did any of the couples he passed. He was able to truly appreciate all of them without that sense of bitter loneliness, and he can only attribute that to meeting you. 

An unbidden smile stretches his lips as he thinks about the time he spent sitting by that fire with you, talking about anything that came to mind. It’s been months since he spent four straight hours with someone, just talking. It’s been years since he wanted to. 

A tiny part of him fears he only feels this way because he’s been so lonely, but the rest of him knows he’d be enamored with you no matter what state he was in. 

This is only confirmed when you round the bookshelf and come to a stop in front of him, an emerald green dress swishing over your thighs and a smile brightening your face. You cleared the store in the time he spent reminiscing, leaving the room empty but for you, Wonwoo, and Anubis.

The air feels tense, heavy with something Wonwoo can’t quite identify. It’s only when he rises to his feet and finds himself closer to you than he meant to be that he realizes that something is potential. 

It’s the same rush of anticipation that fills his chest when he lines up a shot he knows will be incredible, when he finishes climbing a hill and sees the perfect sunset waiting for him, when he finally finds the words to describe the indescribably beautiful. The fact that he’s feeling it now, with you, tells him everything he needs to know. 

His previous fear of meeting someone who would want to keep him has become a dream, a wish that he can only hope will come true, because now Wonwoo knows he wants you to take hold of him and never let go. 

“Can I kiss you?” He asks, his voice so full of longing, it’s almost embarrassing. 

“Before the first date? The scandal!” You say dramatically, feigning offense and lightly tapping him on the chest. He gasps at the contact and covers your hand with his, pressing it flat to his pec so you can feel his speeding heart. 

You must realize how serious he is, how desperate, because the playful smile falls from your face, your gaze darting between his eyes and his lips. He feels himself flush under your attention, his ears and the back of his neck hot as you stare up at him. 

“Yes, Wonwoo. You can kiss me,” you breathe softly, your face tilting up and your eyelashes fluttering as he begins to lean down. This moment feels monumental for some reason, like something he’ll remember for the rest of his life, and as he cups your face and carefully presses his lips to yours, he figures out why. 

Everything about kissing you feels right, as if all of his jagged pieces have fallen into place, as if this is what he was destined for, as if the fates connected him to you with an invisible, unbreakable string. 

He wasn’t restless, he wasn’t a bachelor, he was just waiting for you. 

Suddenly his smile is too broad for him to keep kissing you, giddiness flowing through his veins as he pulls back and rests his forehead against yours. He leaves his hands on your face, brushing his thumb over the curve of your cheekbone before biting back his grin and kissing you one, two, three more times. 

He feels shy when he takes a step back, letting one hand fall to catch yours and squeezing like it’s a lifeline. 

“Was that… life-changing for you too?” Wonwoo asks quietly, scared to pop the bubble he’s found himself in with you. 

“Maybe,” you whisper, vulnerability evident in your voice though your face gives nothing away. “We should get going.”

“Yeah, yes, we should,” he lets you pull away even though it physically pains him, following when you tug him to the door with the hand he’s still holding. 

He doesn’t know what just happened, why you closed yourself off, but he’ll give you the space you seem to need, sure that if he pushes it will only make you freeze up more. For now, he’ll take you to that romantic riverfront restaurant he passed earlier and encourage you to order any and everything you like. 

You ease up a bit after a glass of wine and some shared appetizers, the smile on your face genuine again though your light still seems dimmer than it was before. You ask him a lot of questions but don’t offer up much information in return, keeping your responses short and to the point. 

It doesn’t disrupt the flow of conversation at all, thankfully; Wonwoo and you are compatible enough that it’s easy to bounce from one topic to another. There’s never a pause, never a moment where he doesn’t know what to say, and even with you being more withdrawn than expected, he still laughs himself to tears more than once. 

It’s late by the time he pays the bill and walks you home, which he’s learned is the building right above your shop. There aren’t many people out, and though he startled you when he took your hand in his, he continues to hold it the whole way back. You’ve gone quiet again, pensive, making him wonder if he’s done something wrong, or, worse, if you regret kissing him. 

You only started acting like this after he pressed his lips to yours, after he asked if it was life-changing for you like it was for him. 

He doesn’t know what else it could be, unless you figured out you just don’t feel the same way about him as he does about you. His heart drops into his stomach at the thought, his fingers subconsciously clenching around yours, making you glance up at him in concern. 

He stares forward resolutely, not ready to see confirmation of his fears in your gaze. 

By the time that big window and Anubis’s sleeping body come into view, Wonwoo has convinced himself that you feel nothing but friendship for him and simply don’t know how to say it. 

Still, he can’t help but try, one last time. 

“Do you think I could see you again before I go? I’ve got plenty of pictures and I fly out tomorrow night, so my day is clear.”

You take a second to think about it, your eyes shuttering as if you don’t want him to see the thoughts behind them, before you answer solemnly, “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Oh,” he breathes out, feeling like all the air has been pulled out of his lungs. “You don’t… think it’s a good idea. Okay, I’ll, um, I’ll just go, then.”

He can’t even make himself look at you, knowing that his mouth is pinched in the way it does when he’s trying not to cry. He squeezes your hand once more before disentangling his fingers from yours, taking a step back, and turning to walk away so you can’t see him lift up his glasses and rub at his burning eyes. 

He doesn’t get far before you call out his name. 

“Wonwoo! I… It’s because you’re leaving,” you sound as close to tears as he feels, your voice plaintive and fragile. 

He stops short and chews on his lip, swiping at his face with rough hands as your footsteps sound on the cobblestones. You let him stay where he is but he feels your fingers clench in the back of his shirt, like you’re afraid he’ll still walk away. 

That touch is enough for him to turn around, his hand catching yours as it falls and his heart stuttering at the sheen of tear tracks on your face. He brings his other hand up to brush his thumb under your eye, sweeping away a freshly fallen drop. 

“Is that why you said maybe, after I kissed you?” He asks in a gentle, low tone, less fearful of the answer now. 

“Yes. This has an expiration date, I don’t get to keep you. I couldn’t admit that just one kiss had me ready to sell my shop, buy a new cat carrier, and join you on the road,” you laugh softly in a self-deprecating way, avoiding his gaze again like you’re embarrassed. 

“Y/n, when I said it was life-changing for me, I meant it. As in, I would change my life for you. I can transfer to the Italian branch, go on shorter assignments, find a place here. You can keep me.”

“Wonwoo, I can’t ask you to do all that for me. I mean, we only met a few days ago, how do you know you won’t regret this?” You sound reluctant to accept his offer, but it seems to be coming from a place of worry for him instead of a lack of feeling, and he can work with that.

“I’ve been thinking about settling down anyway, I just needed a sign. Meeting you was that sign, and getting to know you like this has only made me more and more sure. Please, all you have to do is believe in me.”

Finally, you meet his eyes, searching them like you did when he asked you out, and once again, you find what you’re looking for. A watery smile stretches your lips as you step closer to him and up onto your tiptoes, wrapping your free arm around his neck and pulling him into a hug. 

His eyelids flutter shut, his arm vining around your waist and hauling you up against his body so you can feel his galloping heart. He presses his lips to the top of your head and breathes you in, finding your scent absolutely intoxicating. 

It’s fruity like pomegranate but sweet and floral too, reminding him of the lotus flowers he stumbled across in the southern Himalayas. There’s an underlying warmth, a natural musk that makes him wonder if you’re wearing perfume or if you just smell like this on your own. 

He doesn’t really care either way, not now that he has you so close, your joined hands coming up to rest against his shoulder and your body relaxing into his. You stay like that until his heart returns to a somewhat normal pace, before he pulls away just far enough to look down at you. He tugs his hand free so he can cup your face, whispering, “I’m gonna kiss you again, okay?” 

“Please do,” you whisper back, taking in a shuddering breath just before he locks his lips with yours. You sigh it out into his mouth and he swallows it like it’s a benediction, your tongue dragging against his as he kisses you and kisses you and kisses you. 

He’s about to let out a groan when a wooden shutter bangs against the stone building above, a loud voice shouting, “Prendi una stanza!”

“É la città dell'amore, Stefano, dacci una pausa!” You break away to shout back, grinning at Wonwoo’s flaming cheeks. 

“Y/n? Vai avanti, caro!” The shutter snaps closed again and Wonwoo bends over in a full body laugh, clutching his stomach as his abs flex with mirth. You’re not laughing like he is, but you are watching with affection and only the slightest bit of embarrassment. 

When he’s finally regained his composure, he straightens and wipes at his cheeks again, crying for a completely different reason than before. You smile up at him fondly, reaching out to fix his hair and asking, “Since you’re free tomorrow, do you want to come up for some coffee?”

Wonwoo doesn’t know if you’re really offering refreshments or if the coffee is a euphemism for something else, but either way, it’s an easy answer. 

“Of course I do.”

Anubis starts meowing as soon as you unlock the door to your shop, loping over on graceful paws and weaving between your feet. 

“You had your dinner, why are you shouting at me?” You ask as you crouch to pick him up, holding him like a baby and scratching at his stomach gently. 

“Maybe he missed you?”

You mull it over for a little bit, nodding your head in acceptance and admitting, “I don’t usually go out at night, so maybe he did.”

“Is that why your neighbor was fine with us making out as soon as he figured out it was you?” 

You lightly jab him in the stomach with your elbow and he pretends to be mortally wounded, stumbling and groaning dramatically as if he’d been hit with an arrow instead. 

He supposes he has been, but it was one of Cupid’s, not one of yours. 

Anubis twists out of your arms and you let him, locking the entrance to your store and leading Wonwoo to the back. You unlock one of the doors with a huff of exertion and a jiggle of the handle, turning to say, “Old building,” before pushing the door open and letting Anubis dart up the staircase in front of you. Wonwoo jerks the door closed and locks it with the key you hand him, following you up the stairs in near darkness. 

The room you lead him into is a bit smaller than your store, containing a compact kitchen and warm living room flanked by a wall with two doors. “Bathroom is on the right, if you need it.”

He slips off his shoes and excuses himself to freshen up, taking care of his business and washing his hands quickly. Chancing a look in the mirror, Wonwoo finds that he’s flushed, aglow with infatuation, his smile irrepressible and wider than ever. He almost can’t look himself in the eye, knowing that all he’d find is adoration for you, and perhaps a bit of nervousness. 

He doesn’t know what to expect now, doesn’t know if this is leading where he thinks it is or how to act in whatever case. But, not wanting to keep you waiting, he opens the door and shuts off the light, finding you sitting at your dining table with a full french press and two mugs in front of you. 

He wants to speed over but he strolls instead, trying to appear at least a little unaffected. That facade is broken when he stops a few feet from the table, suddenly unsure of whether he should sit next to you or opposite from you. 

Blessedly, you make the choice for him, sliding one mug across the table before smoothly depressing the plunger of the french press. 

The rich smell of coffee permeates the air as you gracefully pour, filling his cup with the steaming, dark liquid before filling yours. “Is black okay? I have sugar and oat milk, if you need them.”

“Black is great, thank you.”

He’s acclimated to the bitterness enough to appreciate the deeper notes, though it’s only because he was once too shy to ask for sugar. He sips carefully, wondering with a satisfied hum if this really is the best coffee he’s ever had or if he just thinks that because you made it for him. 

You fall into an easy chat, discussing pictures he took and customers you had while he was out and about, before you bite your lip and stare down into your coffee like it’ll give you strength. 

“Wonwoo, can I ask you something… personal?” 

Your eyes slowly return to his, and the heat in your gaze makes him want to pop open a few buttons on his shirt and fan himself.  

“Sure,” he says, with only a little trepidation. 

“What are you like in bed?”

Oh. 

Oh. You want to know what he’s like in bed. 

Have you thought about what he’s like in bed? Have you thought about being in bed with him? Have you thought about him and touched yours-

He should answer you before he lets himself get carried away.

“Um, I’m a little different, I suppose. I like to be more… dominant. Maybe a bit rougher than I may seem,” his voice is hushed, and he wants to look away from the intensity of your stare, but he finds he can’t. It’s like you’ve hypnotized him, entranced him with a single question. 

“Is there anything specific that you like?”

This conversation, he likes this conversation. A lot. He can feel his slacks tightening with it, his heart thumping far too hard to be healthy and his mind starting to offer up ideas so fast he can barely make sense of them. 

They’re mostly images, sensations, feelings, all modeled after you. 

“I like,” he begins slowly. “I like being in control. I think I’d like holding you down, making you take what I’m giving you. I like talking,” he chuckles wryly, before continuing.

“I like listening too. I wouldn’t want you to hold back, I’d want to hear every little noise I could pull out of you. And I think I’d really like using my hands first, making you cum until you cry. Or until you beg for my cock.”

You suck in a ragged breath and glance away before looking back at him. Finally, he can read you, desire obvious on your face and in the tight knuckled grip you have on your mug. 

You set it down cautiously, aware of the still scalding coffee inside, and push away from the table to stand. Wonwoo watches you walk around to his side, his gaze fighting to stay on your face and not on the way your dress moves over your thighs as you get closer and closer to him. 

You stop just a foot away, holding your hand out and waiting for him to take it with a slight air of impassioned impatience. He places his hand in yours and rises to his feet, valiantly ignoring the view of your breasts from this angle and following you when you turn and begin tugging him to the door on the left. 

“Are we done talking?” Wonwoo asks, exhilarated and aroused, his dick hardening so quickly it leaves him feeling dizzy. 

“Not even a little bit,” you breathe, pushing the door open and facing him again as you walk backwards towards your bed. 

He crosses the few steps between you, crowds you up to the edge of the bed and pushes you to lay down with a gentle hand on your shoulder. His hands won’t stay gentle for long, and he hopes you understand what you’ve gotten yourself into. 

“If you don’t like something I do, tell me,” he whispers before leaning down and taking hold of your legs, pulling them apart and filling the space in between with his hips. 

“I will,” you gasp as he grinds against you, your dress pooled at the top of your thighs, just barely exposing your black panties. “But I don’t think I’ll need to.” 

I like everything you do. 

You don’t say it but he hears it anyway, the corner of his mouth lifting in a soft smirk before he braces his hands on either side of your head and moves in close. He doesn’t kiss you yet, just watches the way your eyelids flutter shut and your lips pout in preparation. You peek an eye open when he continues to hold himself away from you, your hand rising to cup his neck and attempt to tug him down to you. 

The second your fingers come into contact with him, he shifts his weight to one hand and grips your wrist with the other, pushing it down to the bed and holding it there. You bite back a smile, wriggle beneath him to get more comfortable, and drape your other hand above your head. 

That, he likes, and he rewards you by releasing your wrist and dragging his fingers up your inner thigh instead, digging them into the warm, soft flesh and groaning when he comes into contact with your panties. They’re soaking, so much wetter than he expected, and when he cups his big, cold hand over the seat of them, you shiver and buck up into his touch. 

“How long has it been for you?” Wonwoo asks, as if it hasn’t been literal years for him. 

“Um, a while, it’s been… a while,” you admit, seemingly shy for the first time. He should reassure you, but he likes the way you shrink beneath him, likes even more the thought of being your first in however long. He plans on being your last for the foreseeable future, so it’s only right he’s the one to break your dry spell. 

“Good,” he grins wickedly down at you, pulling your panties to the side and letting his fingers glide through your arousal. You’re soft, and sopping wet, and hot, so fucking hot, just for him, and already he’s wondering if he’ll be able to make good on his words.

If he’ll be able to hold himself back from you long enough to make you beg for it. 

He’ll do his best though, for you, and that starts with not grinding himself into your thigh. He needs to forget about his own pleasure, focus solely on yours, or he’ll be balls deep inside you before he’s even made you cum once. 

That won’t do, not when he wants you writhing on his fingers and pleading for his cock. 

So he pulls his hips away from you and tucks the tip of one digit into your entrance, sliding it in slowly enough that your face crumples in impatience, a low whine escaping you when he just leaves it there and drags his thumb over your clit. 

He wants to take his time, wants to learn you with his hands and his teeth and his tongue, wants to catalog your reactions and be able to take you apart diligently, passionately, like you deserve. 

This teaches him that you don’t like to be teased, and he decides to shelve the idea of edging for another day. He’ll go with overstimulation instead, he thinks, working another finger inside and rubbing more firmly with his thumb. Your face relaxes, your mouth opening on a sigh, and Wonwoo can’t resist leaning down to suck at your plump bottom lip as he curls his fingers inside of you, not yet searching for the spot that will make you gush for him. 

He’ll find it when he’s ready, when he feels like he’s built you up enough, and then he’ll use it to push you over the edge as many times as you can take. For now, he’ll savor the taste of your noises and start stretching out your perfect cunt. 

He pulls away from your mouth, fully aware that he could get lost in your kiss and intent on talking to you more before he lets that happen. 

“You feel so fucking good wrapped around my fingers like this. You know that, don’t you? You know how your cunt hugs them, sucks them in deeper and deeper, because you touch yourself, right?” 

You nod and Wonwoo allows it, won’t make you follow all of his rules until next time, until he’s sure you can handle it. 

“Did you touch yourself for me that night? After we met?” He asks softly, rewarding you with a tap right into your sweet spot when you cry out, “Yes!” 

“Did you say my name when you came?” His fingers pick up speed inside of you, fucking in and out to the beat of his own pounding heart. 

“Yes, Wonwoo,” you whimper, your hands twisting in the sheets above your head and your eyes squeezing shut before he pulls his fingers out and lands a wet smack on your inner thigh. You gasp and try to close your legs but Wonwoo is stronger than you, holds them open with both hands before leaning in close to kiss the stinging skin and say, “Keep your eyes on me.”

You nod tearily, holding his gaze as he sinks his fingers back inside of you and hovers close enough to your pussy that he’s sure you can feel his breath. He quirks his fingers up just as his tongue makes contact with your clit, and the way your lashes flutter but don’t fall brings a proud smirk to his face. 

“You’re a good listener, aren’t you?” He murmurs into your cunt. You start to answer but then he wraps his lips around your clit and sucks, and you shudder out a moan instead. The sound sends electricity zipping down his spine and straight into his cock, making it throb for you in his slacks. 

He ignores it, shifting to rest on his knees and sucking harder, grinding his fingertips up into your front wall so he can draw that same sound out of you again. He told you before that he wanted to hear every little noise he could pull from you, and he meant it, including noises that don’t come from your mouth. 

You’re getting so wet, he can hear it, his fingers squelching inside of you with every thrust, every curl. He doesn’t remember his past partners being so aroused, and he’s already obsessed, already dead set on making you fucking drench him. 

He knows all he needs to do is make you cum and you’ll give him exactly what he wants, so he taps into your g-spot with more force, fucking his fingers into you hard and fast until your cries reach a fever pitch and your back arches. He doesn’t stop, dragging you through your orgasm and pushing you further even as your cunt ripples and squeezes around his fingers, the sensation so intense he almost feels the phantom pulse of you around his dick, too. 

It makes him groan, a deep, dark sound muffled by your pussy, and that seems to be what sends you careening over the edge again, your thighs attempting to clamp shut around him. He lightly smacks one with his free hand, gripping the soft fat and pushing it up and out so he has enough room to work. The other settles on his shoulder but he doesn’t mind that, likes the weight of it, wants you to feel stable and secure as he takes you apart piece by piece. 

You’re writhing on his hand, just like he wanted, your gaze teary and nearly empty, like your beautiful brain is focused on him and him alone, and ohhhh, he likes that, he likes that a lot. He wants to wreck you, wants to leave you with nothing in your head but thoughts of him and when he’ll make you break again. 

He doesn’t know if you can, but he’s desperate to see you flood him, to make you squirt all over him, regardless of the fact that this shirt is dry clean only. He’ll scrub it out in the sink if he has to, doesn’t care what happens to the fibers if it means he can make you cum hard enough to ruin them. 

You’re getting close again, he thinks with lurid satisfaction, his hand a blur between your thighs. He pulls away to murmur, “Hold your leg for me,” waiting for understanding to spark in your eyes. You wrap your hand beneath your knee and manage a wobbly smile, and Wonwoo feels affection burst in his chest like a firework, his lips curving in response as he brings his now free hand to your cunt. 

His fingers push at the crest of your pussy, exposing your swollen clit for his thumb to cover, the pad of it pressing down and rubbing harsh circles. Your eyebrows furrow and your eyes water, your mouth stuck open on a needy moan that grows louder with every tap of your g-spot. It’s a whine soon enough, one that hitches in your throat as he fucks you with his fingers, and when he grinds his fingertips deep into you, he sees alarm grow in your eyes. 

You try to warn him but you can’t seem to speak, only blubbers of his name gracing his ears, making him grin ferally and say, “Don’t worry, baby, I want it to happen. I want you to fucking soak me, now.”

He honestly didn’t expect that to work but apparently, you can cum on command, or, as he tells himself, on his command, because you suck in a deep breath and keen for him. Your cunt flutters wildly around his fingers, clenching down on them and sucking them in before tightening to the point that he can’t move them, his fingertips locked into your sweet spot as you fucking gush. 

He can feel it spraying out onto his face and dampening his button down, arousal flowing out of you like a rushing river, making him groan out, “Fuck yes, just like that.” 

His voice is gravelly and low, desire deepening its pitch, and you shiver above him, though that may have more to do with the thumb still strumming your clit and the fingers still plugging you up. 

He could go again but he doesn’t want to push you too far this first night, doesn’t know where your limits lay or if you’re ready for him to find out for himself, so when your walls finally release his fingers, he slowly pulls them out and gently cups your pussy to help you calm down. 

He’s surprised when you speak, and even more shocked that it’s enough to make him laugh out loud. 

“All that and you didn’t even take my dress off,” you mumble, letting go of your thigh and reaching down to drift a hand over his hair, petting him like he’s an animal you’ve domesticated. 

Maybe he is, and maybe you have. You’re the only one that’s ever made him want to stay, to plant roots, to be domestic. 

Fondly, he says, “I did that on purpose. Now whenever you wear it, you’ll think about me.”

“I don’t need the dress to think about you, Wonwoo, I promise you that,” you hum, letting your eyes slip closed and missing the way his gaze fills with infatuation as he rests his cheek on your thigh and wraps his hands around your ankles. 

His glasses are splattered with you and so is the rest of him, his cock is hard and aching and leaky, and his knees are all but decimated from kneeling on your wood floor for so long, but Wonwoo has never been happier in his life. 

“Will you fuck me now?” 

His brows raise in disbelief, his fingers twitching on your legs, and he stands as quickly as he can manage, bracing one hand beside your head and taking hold of your chin with the other. You blink open your eyes to look at him, the haze in them just a bit clearer, though he’s sure your thoughts are still clouded with pleasure. 

“You still want me?” He asks in full seriousness, his dick pulsing at the thought of feeling your flawless cunt wrapped around it. 

“Yeah, you gonna make me beg?” You murmur, your gaze just a touch defiant. 

He wants to fuck that rebelliousness out of you. 

“I said I’d like to, didn’t I?” He responds slowly, greed simmering in his veins and surely obvious on his face. 

Your eyes narrow before you visibly collect yourself, finding that submissive side you seemed to lean into before. He watches as you let it take over, shrinking beneath him somehow, the expression on your face needy and compliant.

“Please Wonwoo, please give me your cock. I’ve thought about it since we met, since I noticed how built you were under that soaking white shirt. Your shoulders are so broad and your hands are so big and you’re so much taller than me. All I wanted was for you to pin me down and fuck me however you liked, and that’s still all I want.”

He sucks in a deep breath through his nose, carefully concealing how fucking wild your words make him feel. He needs to maintain this illusion of control or you’ll gain the upper hand, and he can’t let that happen. He’s already going to give you exactly what you want, he’ll die before he lets you be smug about it too. 

It takes everything in him but he manages to pull away, releasing your chin and standing at his full height, a smirk rising at the way your hands leave their place above your head to cling to him. 

“Get up. Take your dress off,” he commands stoically, backing up and giving you space to push off the bed onto your feet. Your hands tremble as you reach for the hem, and in a brief moment of tenderness, he covers them with his and lifts it with you, laughing and helping you wrench it off when it gets stuck at the elbows. 

He stops laughing when you fling the dress onto the chair in the corner of your room and stare up at him, clad in just your skewed panties and a little bitten off grin. His eyes fall to your breasts, the shape and weight of them immaculate, just begging for his mouth. He fully plans on worshiping them at the next possible opportunity, but he’s got a different goal in mind now. His hands gravitate to your hips, fingertips tucking in the waistband of your underwear and pulling them down before returning to push you gently toward the bed. 

“Lay down for me.”

Wonwoo doesn’t know why he’s being soft on you now. He’s still hard enough to cut glass but something in him just can’t be harsh when he feels like he does about you, especially after you already took what he gave you so well. Maybe it’s the vulnerable look in your eyes, maybe it’s the way his heart feels three sizes too big for his chest. 

But maybe it’s because when he looks back on your first time together, he doesn’t want it to look like his previous encounters. He wants it to look like a couple that loves each other, that knows they want to be together, that will make sacrifices for each other. 

Obviously, dominating you can still look like that, but right now his soul aches to be gentle with you. Emotionally, at least. 

He’s still going to fuck you into your mattress, he’ll just be kinder about it. 

You can tell that something has shifted in him and somehow it makes you even more pliant, your face open as you patiently wait for his next instruction. He doesn’t give one yet, reaching up to take his glasses off and wipe away the drying release with the edge of his button down before setting them on your night stand. 

He works on getting naked, swiftly unbuttoning his shirt and shrugging it off, carelessly letting it float down to the floor as he undoes his pants. He removes his socks next, pairing them up and dropping them to the side before pushing down his boxer briefs. 

It occurs to him that you haven’t talked about safety at all, and as he climbs over you, his thick, leaking dick dragging against your skin, he asks, “Do we need a condom?”

You swear under your breath and look down, biting your lip before whispering, “I’m not on birth control, and I have condoms but I honestly don’t think they’ll fit you. Do you have any?” 

He swears too, remembering the expired one in his wallet and sighing, “Not one that we could use. I get tested regularly and I’m negative for everything, but what do you wanna do?” 

“Um, well… I haven’t had sex since I last got tested and everything was clear, so what if you pull out? I track my cycle and I’m not ovulating right now.”

It’s risky, and sex without a condom isn’t something Wonwoo’s ever had, but he wants you more than anything, and he believes in his ability to honor your wishes and pull out when he needs to. 

“Let’s do that this one time, and I’ll get condoms for the future,” he agrees, smiling at the way your eyes get brighter when he says ‘future’. 

He settles back into his role seamlessly, though this time, he’s less domineering and more caring, to be sure. Your legs are already spread for him, but he slips his hands under your knees and tucks them up to your chest, resting your calves on his shoulders and setting one hand on the bed to hold himself up. 

The other reaches for his dick, and he fights back a shiver at the chill of his own touch, his perpetually cold hands freezing compared to his searing hot cock. He can’t help but lay it over your pussy, feeling his ears and the back of his neck tingle with a blush when he estimates where he’ll end inside of you. 

You squirm beneath him and he brings his hands back to your thighs, pulling his hips back enough to notch the head of his dick in your entrance before starting to push inside. You’re tight like this, all folded up, but your walls part to welcome him like he’s a missing piece of you, like he’s always been meant to fill you up when you’re empty. 

He moves slowly, not to tease you but to savor you, luxuriating in the feeling of your velvet heat, your perfect cunt as it forms around him. It could be minutes or hours before he bottoms out, but when he does, he almost can’t think, he’s so consumed by sensation. 

He closed his eyes without realizing it, and now he forces them open, only to find you already staring up at him, your gaze unwavering and your hands coming up to hold his where they push at your thighs. 

You seem breathless, and it’s probably partly due to the position but Wonwoo prefers to think it’s because you’re as overwhelmed as he is, so wrought with pleasure that it toes the line of pain. 

You’re still shorter than him, even like this, so he has to curve down to kiss you but it’s worth it because you bloom for him, moaning into his mouth and clenching around his cock when he glides his tongue against yours. With your lips still pressed to his, he draws his hips back a few inches, enough to feel air cling to the wetness on his cock, before thrusting inside sharply. His hips meet your ass with a loud smack, the only other noise in the room being your muffled whimpers and the wet sound of his lips moving against yours. 

Again, he pulls out, almost to the tip this time, and sends his hips forward, grunting at the feeling of your cunt embracing him. It’s perfection, you’re perfection, and he resolves to be nothing but perfect for you too. 

He swallows your sounds and categorizes them; you whimper when he pulls out far and thrusts in deep, moan when he just grinds himself into you, yelp when he fucks you with sharp, fast bucks of his hips. He follows their lead like he’s untying a knot or working through a maze, methodically dismantling you down to your nuts and bolts. 

You’re barely kissing him back when he finally derives the best combination of pace and depth, your lips quivering against his as you whine continuously, the pitch rising every time he reaches the end of you. Your eyes are open but they’re glazed over, and he can’t tell if he’s fucked you dumb or fucked you to tears but either way, it makes his lips stretch in a vicious grin. 

He loves kissing you but that’s not what’s happening anymore, so he pulls away and puts more of his weight on your thighs, using the leverage to fuck into you harder. He doesn’t go faster, knowing that if he does, this will end far sooner than he wants it to. 

He’d like to draw at least one more orgasm from you before he cums, and he can’t do that if he’s got even more friction on his cock. He’s a little surprised there is any with how wet you are, but you’re perfectly matched to his size so your walls grasp him tight every time he pulls back, the drag of them flawless on his sensitive skin. 

Your sounds are louder now that he’s not muffling them with his mouth, melodic in his ears and something he knows he’ll reproduce in his mind again and again, whenever he’s away from you and feeling particularly lonely. 

He’ll have to cut down on his traveling now that he’s got you, but that doesn’t scare him like it used to. Instead, he’s excited to have someone who makes him want to stay and build a home, build a life. He kind of feels like this is the first step, making you his and giving himself to you in return, and it’s enough to make his cock twitch and leak just a little bit of precum inside of you. 

He takes that for the warning it is, consciously veering away from thoughts of domesticity and belonging before dedicating the whole of his body to making you cum. He pushes away from you to sit up on his knees and haul your ass into his lap, your calves still resting on his shoulders and his dick just barely inside of you. 

He angles his hips and thrusts back in shallowly, no longer hitting as deep but aiming the head of his cock at that innervated patch inside of you. Your eyes grow wide and you suck in a deep gasp, your fingers clenching around his where they hold your legs, your reaction letting him know he’s got you. 

He fucks into that spot relentlessly, wondering if he can make you cum with just his cock. He stimulated your clit before too but you feel like you’re getting close, and he doesn’t want to change something trying to help only to hinder you instead. 

He doesn’t have much time to think before you’re crying out his name urgently, your tone plaintive and your voice thin. It sounds like you’re right on the edge, looks like it too, your brows screwed up in pleasure and your eyes bright with bliss. He’s almost as close as you are, his orgasm spooled up at the base of his spine and ticking like a time bomb, just waiting for him to let himself go. 

“Cum, baby,” he pants, hoping beyond hope that you’ll listen and obey just one more time. He doesn’t know how much longer he can hold on, prays that he’ll be able to endure the euphoria your climax will bring, that he won’t have to ruin it by pulling out while you’re deep in its thrall. 

But you do listen, thank fuck, you do, your eyes rolling back and your cunt clamping down on him in a vise grip, the sheer heat and wetness of you enough to pull a strangled groan from deep in his throat. It takes everything in him not to cum with you, the feeling incredible and the sight just as glorious, the impact of both beyond the realm of imagination. 

He lasts just long enough to get you through your aftershocks, his chest heaving for air as he makes himself pull out of the eden of your cunt. Blood rushes in his ears and fluffy cotton candy fills his head, his thoughts no more than paper airplanes gliding on a warm breeze. He watches his cum cover your perfect tits in white stripes, feeling as if he’s out of his body and out of his mind. 

Your hands squeeze his and you breathe his name, slowly pulling him back to you, like he’s a balloon that’s floated away and you’ve miraculously caught his string. You’re blurry in his vision and he can’t tell if it’s because he doesn’t have his glasses on or if he’s just crying, but either way he releases your legs and leans in close to see you better. 

You cup his cheeks and pull him into a soft kiss, the soothing, reassuring pressure bringing him back down to earth, back to you. He should be the one taking care of you right now, but he feels like he’s been cracked open, his soul and his heart bare, unprotected. 

“You’re okay,” you whisper, petting his cheekbones with your thumbs, and that’s what restarts him. 

He presses his lips to yours ardently, gathering up all of his feelings and pouring them into you, the intensity drawing a gentle sigh that travels from your mouth to his. He breathes it in before pulling away and focusing on you.

Lying down next to you, he pulls you into his arms, uncaring of the sticky cum that smears on his chest when your breasts press against him. He holds you for a while, until his heartbeat feels close to normal and his head feels close to clear. He’s about to drift off when he remembers how dirty you both still are.

“Do you want to shower?” He asks in a low voice, grinning at the way your face scrunches in displeasure at the thought before you look up at him and respond, “Are we going to fuck again tonight?” 

He thinks on it for a moment, weighing options and offering his opinion, “I don’t want to tempt fate too many times, so I think we should just go to sleep for now and go out for condoms and Plan B tomorrow morning. Then I’ll fuck you all day, if you want.” 

You smile serenely and nod, your eyes already half lidded with exhaustion. 

“Does that mean you do want to shower, then?” He confirms, his fingers drumming on your bare back. 

“Yeah,” you pout, obviously reluctant to get up and get clean. 

“I’ll go start it and come get you when it’s warm. Don’t worry, baby, I’ll do all the work,” he promises you, grinning when your pout stretches into a pleased little smile. 

He climbs out from under you and off the bed, walking on shaky knees to the bathroom, his soft cock hanging between his legs. He wonders if you have a washer, his shirt and boxers are not usable in their current state, but he can just use the sink if he needs to. He’ll have to go back to his hotel sometime tomorrow, to change and gather his things for his flight back home, and he’s already dreading the idea of it. 

It would be nice if he could get his film camera, maybe take a few pictures of you to tide him over until his transfer is finalized and he can find an apartment here. He feels like you’d be up for that, imagines photographing you in all kinds of positions and varying states of undress, safe in the knowledge that he can rent a darkroom and develop them himself. 

He struggles for a minute but figures out your shower eventually, turning it on and standing by until steam gathers on the mirror. He catches a glance at himself just before it fogs over, blushing at the image staring back at him. 

His lips are swollen and red, his cheeks flushed with exertion and joy, his eyes luminous for what feels like the first time in years. You’ve made your mark on him, tattooed him in gold, and he doesn’t think he’ll ever be the same. 

That’s not something he minds. He even finds himself smiling at the idea of rearranging his pieces to fit with yours, of making space in his life for you and Anubis to fill. 

When he leaves the bathroom to get you, the cat is laying on the dining table, sprawled out with his eyes closed, and Wonwoo breathes a sigh of relief. If he’s being honest, he forgot entirely that there was another being in this apartment, and he’s glad your activities didn’t seem to disturb him. 

He wants to smooth a hand down Anubis’s side but doesn’t want to wake him, so he stares at the cat for just a second longer before turning to your bedroom and poking his head through the door frame. 

You’re starfishing on the bed, his cum mostly dry on your tits and your eyes gently shut, and he can’t contain the laugh that bubbles out of his chest. 

Like mother, like son.

Wonwoo draws in a deep, centering breath as he raises the camera to his bespectacled eye, grateful not for the first time that he’s in the city of love. 

This will be the first proposal he’s photographed today, the third this week, and for someone who’s always thought he didn’t mind love, he finds himself unbelievably excited. 

He calls your name, watches dust motes float through a shining sunbeam as you stir in the bed you share, your tired gaze finding him before it lands on the book beside you. Or, more accurately, on the ring sitting on the book beside you. 

You draw in a sharp gasp, your eyes flying to his, and he depresses the shutter button just as your face breaks into a beam bright enough to rival a supernova. 

He thinks this will be his favorite photograph yet. 

AN: And the book was titled April Shower and it contains your love story as written by your best friend, the end 💖

“Prendi una stanza!” - "Get a room!"

“É la città dell'amore, Stefano, dacci una pausa!” - "It's the city of love, Stefano, give us a break!"

“Y/n? Vai avanti, caro!” - "Y/n? Carry on, dear!"

My Masterlist

[lamilanomagazine]

Verona, entro l'estate al via il servizio Taxi Rosa con linea dedicata a sostegno delle vittime di violenza e stalking

Verona, entro l'estate al via il servizio Taxi Rosa con linea dedicata a sostegno delle vittime di violenza e stalking. Sono tante le iniziative messe in campo dall'Amministrazione per garantire strumenti e servizi a dimensione di una città delle donne. Uno di questi riguarda l'accordo tra il Comune e l'Unione Radiotaxi Verona per introdurre, entro l'inizio dell'estate, una linea dedicata e sicura per permettere di spostarsi in città o tornare a casa di sera e di notte in tutta tranquillità. Ai tassisti verrà data la possibilità di partecipare a corsi di formazione mirati, volti a sensibilizzarli sulle problematiche legate alla violenza di genere e a fornire loro gli strumenti necessari per intervenire in caso di situazioni di pericolo. È importante sottolineare che i tassisti, già da tempo sono sensibili al tema visto che  durante il servizio quando accompagnano le donne, sanno di dover  aspettare in strada finché non sono entrate in casa. Inoltre, su ogni taxi sono presenti gli adesivi che pubblicizzano il 1522, numero gratuito attivo 24 ore su 24 con operatrici specializzate che accolgono le richieste di aiuto e sostegno delle vittime di violenza e stalking. Per sostenere economicamente l'iniziativa della nuova linea dedicata, e renderla accessibile a tutte le donne che ne vorranno usufruire, verranno emessi dei buoni grazie a risorse messe a disposizione dal Comune. "Abbiamo perfezionato i contenuti di questa proposta che, una volta completata, verrà messa a terra insieme ad altre iniziative che riguarderanno altre attività su questa tematica – spiega l'assessora alla Sicurezza Stefania Zivelonghi -. È lo step più importante e di maggior impatto di un progetto ben più ampio, che coinvolgerà anche Atv e altre realtà del territorio per un continuo miglioramento dei servizi e garantire una mobilità serena alle donne". "Siamo a fianco dell'Amministrazione per sostenere tutte le iniziative e i messaggi che possono aiutare le donne – sottolinea il presidente dell'Unione Radiotaxi Verona Daniele Garonzi -. Da anni abbiamo come forma di cortesia di aspettare che rientrino a casa quando siamo in piena notte. I tassisti fanno già una parte nel sociale operando uno sconto del 20 % ai disabili, e siamo disponibili a mettere a disposizione del Comune la nostra tecnologia per la gestione di eventuali buoni messi a disposizione. Inoltre aderiremo alla proposta di partecipare a corsi di formazione per dare un ulteriore aiuto alle donne o a soggetti in difficoltà, una tematica che ci interessa moltissimo. Potremo farli nella nostra sede, riuscendo a istruire tutti i 177 tassisti che fanno parte della cooperativa". Il pacchetto di iniziative a cui sta lavorando l'assessora alla Sicurezza Stefania Zivelonghi vede il coinvolgimento del Gruppo Donne di Confimi Apindustria Verona che plaude alla concretizzazione dell'iniziativa, una di una serie, come sottolinea anche la presidente Marisa Smaila. "Come Gruppo Donne di Confimi Apindustria Verona abbiamo voluto fare qualcosa di concreto contro la violenza di genere, nella convinzione che per contrastare questo fenomeno si debba investire innanzitutto nella formazione e nell'informazione delle persone. Formazione e informazione che devono raggiungere tutti i livelli della nostra società: dalle scuole alle nostre aziende, dalle strade della città ai luoghi che frequentiamo. Non possiamo aspettarci che debbano essere soltanto le Forze dell'ordine o i centri anti-violenza ad occuparsi della violenza di genere. Esiste una sfumatura grigia, ed è quella dell'indifferenza, che deve essere cancellata. Come? Con una maggiore attenzione e presa di coscienza da parte di tutti, attraverso piccoli gesti che ciascuno di noi può compiere nel quotidiano o azioni più coordinate come quelle che caratterizzano questo progetto che pensa sì alle donne ma che ha una ricaduta positiva sull'intera società".... #notizie #news #breakingnews #cronaca #politica #eventi #sport #moda Read the full article

[bike42]

Almost as soon as we returned from last year’s Yoga Retreat at Imiloa Institute near Dominical Costa Rica, we booked again for this year. Jeff said he’d never been so relaxed in his life (even though he failed a heart stress test the following week and received two more stents in his Cardiac Artery).

Since we’re somewhat retired now, I thought it’d be great to add on another week down here. We’d already done the thrilling adventures here when we did a REI trip to celebrate Jeff’s 60th birthday 12 years ago. We got word that the Verona Methodist Church was doing a mission trip to Guatemala the week before our retreat so we signed on to that. Flying from San Juan CR to Guatemala City is like flying from Madison to Minneapolis, after all! However, about 4 weeks ago that portion of our trip was cancelled due to some political insurgency that doesn’t make our news (but would if the radicals kidnapped some American missionaries)!

I was bummed but not deterred. I turned to Andrea Russell, our Yoga Retreat leader for suggestions. Besides leading two weeks of retreats, she stays in CR for nearly three months until winter is nearly over. She suggested Drake Bay / Osa Peninsula - specifically Aquila Lodge. I contacted them and of course they were fully booked, but we stayed in touch and they were able to piece together 7 nights for us, but it’ll require moving rooms several times. We can do that!

We had an early departure from Madison; 5am boarding time!! Ryan offered to drive us, but it was so early. We booked an Uber for 4:30am and that worked great. One hour after we crawled out of bed we were strapped in our seats on the plane. First flight was to Atlanta, where we had a gorgeous sunrise probably somewhere over Tennessee.

Tight connection there so we speed walked from terminal C to the International terminal and boarded the flight to CR. Three and a half hours - for the first time on a plane we listened to the audiobook we’d started last week. I overlapped a bit with blackjack on the seat back screen.

We arrived in San Jose shortly after noon, spent an hour in the immigration line, collected our bags and headed towards the little domestic terminal. A polite young man wanted to show us the way and we let him and paid him a $5 tip.

Check in at Sensa Airlines was funny. We had to pay an extra $10 for our heavy checked luggage. Then they weighed our carry on bags, and then they weighed us (glad I didn’t have to pay extra for the pounds I’ve been carrying on my body since the holidays!). We had about 90 minutes to wait for our flight. We had a snack, chatted with some guys from Charlotte and watched people.

We boarded our little Cessna early and took off about 3:45pm. While it was a warm and sunny day, there were clouds on the mountains, and soon we were surrounded by clouds - more than a little frightening as we know there are other little airplanes up here too.

After about 30 minutes, we were out over the ocean and could see the shore, and soon, the tiny airstrip that was Drake Bay. Glad to be on the ground again! Inside the terminal we were greeted by a guy who led us to a truck that had one of those mufflers mounted high on the hood for river crossings! We soon saw why! He wasn’t local, but said he’s been here about two weeks helping his girlfriend with “transportation services.” He bumped us over some rough roads and rivers, through the tiny village of Drake Bay and to the beach. There we met two guys in a water taxi that brought us to the resort.

Alex met us at the dock and walked us up to the open air restaurant. The resort includes breakfast, lunch, and dinner in a communal dining style. We had about 90 minutes before dinner, so he walked us to our room and told us a bit more about the property. Tonight we’re staying in “Esmeralda House,” about halfway down the path towards the village. Our beautiful view is of the beach where we caught the water taxi. The house is rustic, but will be fine. I’m glad they could accommodate us with such short notice. We changed and relaxed a bit, before grabbing our flashlights and venturing back to the restaurant (so glad we arrived during day light!).

We had a mango cocktail, amazing ceviche appetizer, salad and huge tuna steaks for dinner … chocolate cheesecake for dessert. Back to our house for quick showers and hopefully a good nights rest with the sound of the jungle mixed with the sound of the sea!

[eliteroyal25]

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[snellblogs]

THE ROAD TO VENICE

Arsenale stop on Colonna,

Garibaldi street

Venice..

June 8 23

 10.15 pm

  I did all the last minute tasks like getting Euros in cash, and downloading apps for airlines and a hard copy of the boarding passes and the coach.  There was also shopping for the right clothes, very thin for the weight of the luggage and then there is the rain forecast for Verona so where is the multi coloured umbrella?

 It was such a long day and so much has happened.  I woke up in Reading and get a drive to the coach for Heathrow, which I caught with two minutes to spare.  I had just the person to see me off on a trip.  Why am I doing this, you say to yourself?  Because I was asked.

 Also, I would be a fool to turn down a trip to Venice, wouldn’t I? But I really liked my home that I am trying to turn into to a homely cottage.  It has rather a lot of character though.

 So I leave the South West, a rural area and board the crowded Heathrow coach until I reach the right airport and airline and meet up with my travelling companion.

 Flying is the same as ever, it’s been so many years since I went anywhere.  Except now there is an issue with luggage, how big it is and how many you may take.  We all sit very close together, I don’t remember that and there isn’t that romance anymore is there.  But maybe that’s a Canadian thing.

 So we made our flight after queueing in snake lines and I just smiled, what can you say?  That it didn’t use to be like this?  Nobody wants to hear that, but it’s true, it was lovely travelling, the freedom, the romance.

 The flight was lovely, perfect weather except for a little turbulence as we neared Italy, the mystery over luggage and what you can and can’t take with you.  I took my keyboard. I have to be able to write.  I have my pen and paper too.

 Here in Italy I have no idea what’s going on.  It’s rather nice, bit like being a kid again because my opinion is not asked, not deemed important which it isn’t because I don’t understand any of the adult happenings.

 So I made it to Stansted airport with all the hundreds of people going away because it is June and we are in a holiday mood and it strikes me that the English love to travel, and chase the sun.

  Having landed in Venice we take the water taxi where my companion meets a retired English vicar and his wife from Camborne who spend month at a time here in Venice, just because they like it.  What an interesting type.  They have all the Brunetti books by Julia…and come several times a year and follow the Brunetti walk that has been created for those who follow the books.

NEXT: Getting Around in Venice.

www.lynnepearl.com

Lynne Pearl at Goodreads

[micro961]

Matteo E Io - “Un letto qualsiasi”

Il nuovo brano di Matteo e Io, giovane artista veronese

Un letto qualsiasi è un singolo che parla della vita, delle sue difficoltà e delle sue sfide.

Una canzone che racconta di quanto un letto possa essere un posto qualsiasi e sconosciuto se non hai con te la persona che ami

 Matteo Poletti, in arte Matteo E Io, nasce il 22 dicembre del 1993 a Verona. La passione per la scrittura di brani inediti da lui composti lo proietterà già all’età di 15 anni a confermarsi come cantautore scrivendo il suo primo album che sarà, dopo un breve periodo, arrangiato e prodotto insieme alla band da lui stesso formata chiamata “United Ways”. Successivamente, dopo alcuni cambi di formazione nel corso degli anni, tra il 2019 ed il 2020 saranno pubblicati quattro nuovi singoli tra qui “Quasi Alla Fine” che permetterà alla band di toccare per la prima volta classifiche, giornali e radio su scala nazionale. Dopo anni spesi all’interno di questo progetto “United Ways”, decide di intraprendere nel 2021 un percorso che lo porterà a definirsi sotto una nuova veste da solista. Il 26 novembre 2021 esce il suo primo singolo da solista “Le luci dei taxi” e il 18 febbraio 2022 esce “Cuspide”, brano che entra in generazione z e ci rimane per otto settimane.

 Etichetta: Orangle Srl - www.oranglerecords.com

 Spotify: https://open.spotify.com/artist/4Zx1FdnVj10w170XV0GzvO

 Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/matteo_e_io/?hl=it

 l’altoparlante - comunicazione musicale

www.laltoparlante.it

info@laltoparlante.it

[aloneinstitute]

Olá amigos,

Faz 3 dias q estou de volta ao Brasil e depois de colocar o sono em dia e descansar bastante lembrei de algumas dicas q gostaria de passar pra ajudar quem está planejando a sua viagem ou até pra quem já está de malas prontas.

DICAS ÚTEIS:

Na volta para o Brasil, no check-in foi solicitado cartão de vacina q poderia ser mostrado pelo app ou impresso. Eu estava com o meu impresso e isso ajudou na rapidez do atendimento.

Tax free - eu estava em Milão e todas as empresas são no quadrilátero da moda, então, passei e já peguei o dinheiro, o q foi bom pq assim não precisaria sacar e pagar taxa. Eles solicitam o cartão de crédito como garantia pq no aeroporto vc tem q passar no guiche da empresa e carimbar o papel q eles te entregam. Se nao fizer isso eles debitam o valor dado do seu cartão. Achei q valeu super a pena. No aeroporto Fiumicino todos os guiches ficam no T3 perto dos balcões dos check-in.

Cartão da Wise como todos sabem é excelente mas sugiro q façam ele digital no celular ( pagamento por aproximação com o celular) e guardem o físico. Pq em caso de perda do cartão vc não consegue sacar dinheiro o q pode te deixar em apuros. Eu perdi o meu e só depois comecei a usar o digital e teve uma maquina do hotel q o digital não funcionou e se não tivesse dinheiro eu teria me lascado. Por isso, achei essa dica bem valiosa pra vcs.

Se tiverem de carro e forem estacionar nos Parkings, lembrem-se de ter moedas. Se a hora custar 1euro e 20 e vc colocar 1 euro e 50, não tem problema pq a máquina calcula os minutos a mais q vc está pagando. Uma coisa muito importante, o bilhete deve ser colocado em cima do painel do carro para o fiscal ver. Caso contrário, vc leva multa. Falo isso, pq vi gente pagando e colocando o comprovante no bolso e o fiscal não tem como adivinhar q vc pagou neh.

Eu fiz uma pasta com tudo impresso por dia e local. Caso a Internet não funcionasse eu estava com o comprovante de tudo.

Nos hotéis basta falar o nome em q está a reserva e ok. Prestem atenção qdo forem reservar pq alguns hotéis cobram a taxa na hora tah e outros compram na reserva o q ajuda muito na hora do check-out q é só deixar a chave qdo sair. Em Verona precisava sair as 7h e o check-out era só as 8h mas como já tinha pago td foi só entregar a chave.

Qdo cheguei no Roma Termini comprei um chip da Ilíad e funcionou na Itália inteira sem problema nenhum. Paguei 20 euros por 120Mg mas no Roma Termini tem Tim e Vodafone tb.

Metrô em Roma é super fácil e em Milão tb.

Em Verona o Táxi foi a minha opção para ir para estação de trem com mala. Fiquei hospedada perto do centro e é distante da estação. Basta vc ligar e pedir o táxi q eles te informam em qto tempo o taxi mais próximo chega. Não adianta querer reservar para o dia seguinte, por exemplo, pq vai sair cedo. Tem q ligar na hora q vai pegar o Táxi. O telefone é +39044532666

O Pantheon em Roma quem for visita-lo sábado, domingo e feriado precisa agendar o horário da visita on line.

Acho q é isso mas se alguém quiser mais alguma informação, estou à disposição.

PS. Já estou com sdds da Itália 🇮🇹🥰

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[lamilanomagazine]

A Verona 40 taxi in più grazie alle nuove licenze

A Verona 40 taxi in più grazie alle nuove licenze. Grazie ad un lavoro di squadra, che ha visto scendere in campo il Comune di Verona insieme alle associazioni di categoria che fanno parte della Commissione Taxi, verrà ampliato il turno di 8-10 ore, mettendo a disposizione dell'utenza 40 taxi in più grazie all'opportunità di una seconda guida e grazie anche a nuove licenze. Un miglioramento significativo dell'offerta del trasporto e della mobilità a Verona in vista di grandi eventi e picchi di afflusso turistico. Prossimo step l'acquisto di nuove auto ibride a bassa emissione di co2. Un nuovo provvedimento che rappresenta un passo significativo verso una mobilità urbana sempre più efficiente per tutti, cittadini, turisti e associazioni di categoria. È quella annunciata oggi frutto di un impegno condiviso tra il Comune e le associazioni della Commissione Taxi, un ulteriore segnale concreto per rispondere alle esigenze della comunità. L'iniziativa si propone di ampliare e potenziare il servizio taxi, ricorrendo a ciò che la legge mette a disposizione, ponendo così le basi per un sistema di trasporto che sappia rispondere alle esigenze di residenti e di tutti coloro che arrivano nella nostra città. Un impegno collettivo che mira a consentire una maggiore copertura e flessibilità nei turni lavorativi. La strada da intraprendere è stata trovata grazie al DL. 104 del 10 agosto 2023, che fornisce precisi strumenti per rendere flessibile e maggiormente usufruibile all'utenza il servizio taxi. Le misure intraprese. Innanzitutto, è stato introdotto un nuovo sistema che consentirà a due tassisti di condividere la guida di un'unica auto. Nello specifico si darà la possibilità anche ai tassisti 'monoguida', cioè che non hanno collaboratori familiari, di sottoscrivere un contratto di gestione per far svolgere ad una seconda guida, quindi un nuovo tassista, un turno integrativo di 8-10 ore in aggiunta al turno del titolare. Verrebbe usata la stessa autovettura ma di fatto si otterrebbe da subito il raddoppio dei turni con un totale di 40 auto in più grazie ad una seconda guida e nuove licenze. Questa iniziativa permetterà altresì di promuovere una forma di collaborazione più stretta tra i conducenti, aprendo la strada anche al passaggio del testimone tra generazioni e offrendo nuove opportunità per i giovani aspiranti tassisti. Come secondo intervento la Cooperativa Unione Radiotaxi Verona infatti punterà ad ottenere nuove licenze taxi stagionali, da far guidare a dipendenti o gestori, impegnandosi nell'acquisto di auto ibride a bassa emissione di co2 come previsto dal DL 104/2023. Infine, grazie ad un principio di massima flessibilità, si punterà all'applicazione dell'istituto della collaborazione familiare occasionale per sostituzioni del titolare in determinati casi occasionali di impedimento al lavoro. Alcuni dati. Grazie ad una elaborazione su dati forniti dai comuni e da Istat, è stato stilato un rapporto tra Residenti all'1 gennaio 2023/Licenze taxi/Numero di taxi ogni 100.000 abitanti. A Verona è risultata avere 255,588 abitanti, 177 licenze con 6,93 taxi ogni 10mila abitanti. Una proporzione destinata a cambiare drasticamente in occasione di grandi eventi in città o in alta stagione. Tra le varie città esaminate Roma con un rapporto 2.748.109/7.838/28,52; Milano 1.354.196/4855/35.85; Napoli 913.462/2.364/25,88; Firenze 360.930/772/21,39; Torino 841.600/1501/17,84; Bologna 387.971/656/16,91; Genova 558.745/869/15,55; Trieste 198.417/249/12,55; Padova 206.496/150/7.26; Brescia 196.446/101/5,14; Venezia 250.369/108/4,31; Vicenza 109.823/45/4,10. (Fonte Wired Italia) Questo primo provvedimento sarà seguito da altri, tra cui la condivisione delle risorse taxi con i comuni limitrofi per eventi di grande portata come Vinitaly e la Fiera Cavalli. Dopo un periodo di osservazione l'Assessorato al Commercio valuterà se gli interventi messi in campo risulteranno sufficienti o se sarà necessario intervenire ulteriormente. Un altro segnale indicatore verrà dato quando termineranno i lavori della filovia con conseguente riorganizzazione del traffico cittadino. A presentare le novità questa mattina in Sala Arazzi sono intervenuti l'assessore al Commercio e attività produttive Italo Sandrini, il vicepresidente nazionale Uritaxi Verona Stefano Sella, il presidente Unione Radio Taxi Verona Daniele Garonzi, il presidente Associazione per la Difesa e l'Orientamento dei Consumatori ADOC Verona Luigi Sperani, Daniela Campostrini della Confederazione Nazionale Artigianato piccola e media impresa Daniela Campostrini e il responsabile trasporti di Confcommercio Ferdinando Marchi. "Questo provvedimento va ad ampliare l'azione intrapresa l'anno scorso – commenta l'assessore Italo Sandrini - È stato necessario infatti implementate il numero per soddisfare le esigenze dei trasporti a Verona. Ora, grazie al decreto 104/2023 e la legge in vigore, abbiamo messo a regime pieno a turno 40 autovetture in più grazie ad una seconda guida e nuove licenze. Un lavoro veramente importante di concertazione con le associazioni di categoria presenti in Commissione Taxi. Siamo veramente soddisfatti perché, utilizzando entrambi gli strumenti a disposizione, credo che riusciremo finalmente a soddisfare le esigenze dell'utenza. Visto che Verona in questo momento è interessata da tante opere pubbliche, ci siamo ripromessi di monitorare costantemente la situazione, in vista di un ulteriore ampliamento delle licenze". "Uno dei problemi emersi in passato, è stato poter accedere al servizio con flessibilità – afferma Daniele Garonzi -. Abbiamo necessità di poter usufruire di turni integrativi e mettere a disposizione l'auto, anche in fascia notturna, specialmente durante l'alta stagione. Quest'anno, grazie al DL 104 del 10 agosto 2023, avremo la possibilità già da aprile di offrire alla cittadinanza un servizio con turni integrativi e successivamente avere in capo alla cooperativa delle licenze taxi acquistando auto ibride". "È stato fatto un lavoro responsabile e di squadra – sottolinea Stefano Sella -. Per una professione che è principalmente stagionale, e che quindi richiede ampia flessibilità". "Come consumatori auspichiamo che questo servizio migliori l'efficienza di tutta la città e dello scorrimento del traffico – ha detto Luigi Sperani -. L'introduzione di auto ibride sarà sicuramente un altro grande passo avanti per il miglioramento dell'ambiente". "Questo accordo ci consentirà di soddisfare le esigenze sia delle imprese, sia dei tassisti – aggiunge Daniela Campostrini -. Questa nuova forma di flessibilità infatti ci aiuterà a garantire un buon risultato a vantaggio di tutti". "C'è grande soddisfazione per l'accoglimento di questo principio di offerta flessibile, legata alla stagionalità e ai grandi eventi – conclude Ferdinando Marchi -. Abbiamo già sperimentato con successo collaborazioni previsionali per quanto riguarda l'analisi della domanda, ad esempio mediante l'indagine delle prenotazioni alberghiere. Questo è un insieme di provvedimenti che, grazie alla collaborazione con l'Amministrazione comunale, migliorerà sensibilmente l'offerta del trasporto e della mobilità a Verona".... #notizie #news #breakingnews #cronaca #politica #eventi #sport #moda Read the full article

[micro961]

Matteo e Io - “Centomila, Nessuno”

Il nuovo singolo del cantautore veronese

 Pezzi di vita vissuta e angoli fuori dalla vita vissuta. “Centomila, Nessuno” è una canzone che rappresenta la fine dei conti, il momento in cui fare il punto della situazione e tirare le somme dopo anni di esperienze, sogni, battaglie, vittorie, sconfitte, amore, amicizia, felicità e dolore.

«Ci sono davvero tante cose che vorremmo dire a noi stessi e tante cose che vorremmo dire alle persone che fanno parte o che hanno fatto parte della nostra vita. Questo singolo racchiude tutti pezzi di vita vissuta e di angoli fuori dalla vita vissuta. Frammenti di quello che è stato fatto, provato o immaginato. È la chiusura di un cerchio» Matteo e Io.

 Matteo Poletti, in arte Matteo e Io, nasce nel dicembre del 1993 a Verona. La passione per la scrittura lo porta già all’età di 15 anni a scrivere i suoi primi brani inediti. Inizia il suo percorso insieme alla band da lui stesso formata chiamata “United Ways” con la quale, tra il 2019 ed il 2020, pubblica quattro singoli tra qui “Quasi Alla Fine” che gli permette di toccare per la prima volta classifiche, giornali e radio su scala nazionale. Dopo anni spesi all’interno di questo progetto, decide di intraprendere nel 2021 un percorso che lo porta a definirsi sotto una nuova veste da solista. Il 26 novembre 2021 esce “Le Luci Dei Taxi” come suo primo singolo e successivamente, il 18 febbraio 2022, “Cuspide”. Quest’ultimo singolo è inserito da Spotify in tre playlist editoriali tra cui “Generazione Z” nella quale resta per un totale di nove settimane. A distanza di qualche mese, il 15 aprile 2022, esce il terzo singolo “Scandalo” che entra nella playlist editoriale “Scuola Indie” di Spotify. Nel corso del 2022, esce il 16 settembre anche il suo primo featuring dal titolo “Sconosciuti”.

 Etichetta: Orangle Srl - www.oranglerecords.com

 INSTAGRAM

https://www.instagram.com/matteo_e_io/

SPOTIFY

https://open.spotify.com/artist/4Zx1FdnVj10w170XV0GzvO

TIK TOK  

https://www.tiktok.com/@matteoeio

 l’altoparlante - comunicazione musicale

www.laltoparlante.it

info@laltoparlante.it

[rosesloveletters]

Bad and Lovely.

pairing: Patrick Verona x Fem. Reader

word count: 4,079

warnings: strong language

summary: Reader is away at college and is homesick. they return home, ready to surprise Patrick, only to find him with an eager replacement. Alternatively, Pat and Reader confess their true feelings. 

You braced yourself in your seat as the plane landed, bouncing once on the runway as the engines grew loud and rumbled with the effort it took to slow the aircraft down. After a few seconds, the plane was moving at a normal speed again as the pilot taxied off the runway to park at the gate.

You shifted, crossing your legs to keep from seeming too eager to get off the plane. The other passengers were already gathering their things at their seats; everyone was on the edge of their seats in anticipation for the pilot to come on the intercom and give permission to depart. It wasn’t a very long flight and you hadn’t make the trip as often as you felt like you should because of that fact. You just didn’t feel like driving the distance this time. You had enough money for a plane ticket and you couldn’t get back home fast enough.

The last phone call that you and your best friend Patrick had shared was what led to your sudden return to Seattle. The two of you called each other almost every single day. The transition from high school to college had been rough on you. It felt like there were worlds between you and you missed him every waking second. You hadn’t been gone for more than a couple of months, but you were already heartbroken and missing him dearly. Your ability to focus on your classes was failing you and you couldn’t concentrate when you were so far apart from the one person who kept you sane. You had been prepared, you had thought, but now that everything in your life had changed so suddenly you were wondering if you had ever been prepared in the first place.

You didn’t want to make Patrick uncomfortable and so you hadn’t told him at first. But the last phone call you had shared, at the end of the call, he’d said ‘miss you’. You had almost cried. You missed him so bad. You repeated it back to him before ending the call.

It was a snap decision to go visit him for the weekend, especially buying a plane ticket for it. But your parents had agreed to give you a ride back if you were willing to purchase a ticket to come home. And so you did.  

You hadn’t brought a carry-on bag; it only slowed you from the goal of getting off that damned plane. When you’d gotten on the plane you’d intentionally sat up front so you’d be one of the first ones off. Only in the third row back, after arriving at the gate, you were nearly off the plane as soon as you’d been allowed.

You could see from out the window that it was raining— quite a change from the bright sunshine when you’d been high above the clouds. You smiled; rain was so typical of Seattle. It was normal and familiar. You had really missed your hometown.

Once the passengers in front of you had left the plane, you stood and filed into the narrow hall between the seats, nodding your thanks to the flight attendants and the pilot on your way out.

You sped up your pace, walking quickly from the gate until you burst from the doorway and into the massive airport. The other passengers were on their way to the baggage claim and you followed. Up ahead you caught sight of the TSA agents and the security scanners, lines of passengers waiting their turn to be admitted to the terminals. You continued on, the signs pointing the way to baggage claim led you to an escalator. You stepped on and rode it down to a lower level. Once at the bottom, you stepped off and turned right, walking down the next corridor and stopping beside the carousel. By now they were already putting bags out on the belt and you waited patiently for yours until you saw it leave the back room. You grabbed it as quickly as you could and headed for the doors. Your parents were supposed to pick you up in the front.

You got to the doors as quickly as you could and looked up and down the long stretch of road in front of the airport. There were taxis and other cars lined up outside waiting for passengers. You remained under the safety of the awning to stay out of the rain as you looked for your car. Your father flagged you down from the car. You wanted to run to them but you remained as calm as you could, making your way to the car without wasting any time. You were thrilled to see your parents again. It had been months after all and Patrick wasn’t the only thing you were missing. You had missed your entire lifeit seemed.

Hugs were exchanged as your father helped you get your bag into the car. The previous hole in your heart was starting to fill again, but the only person that could make you whole again was Patrick. You could breathe a sigh of relief once you got to see him.

With everything packed away, you got into the car and were on your way.

***

Of course, your parents had wanted a detailed novel on how college was going for you. To tell the truth, you weren’t one for such conversations. You never had been. You didn’t like to re-count things that happened all that much or over-share whenever it came to how your life was going in that regard. You had told them all was well and that you were adjusting just fine. But even more truthfully, the part that was closer to your heart knew that you were notadjusting just fine. Everything was so different and strange and you weren’t sure if you had really known how much of a change it would be. You weren’t taking it well. You had none of the regular consistencies in your life anymore. Nothing that you had been used to or had once relied on to get you through the roughest days. That was mostly because Patrick was what had gotten you through. It was hard to picture him there rooting for you on the sidelines whenever you couldn’t even see his face.

The drive from the airport to your house was the longest car-ride of your life. Making conversation with your parents was harder than it had ever been because you couldn’t concentrate at all on what they were saying or what to say in response. All you could think about was Patrick. You were going to surprise him. He had no idea at all that you had come home today. You knew that he was at work tonight and you were going to show up unannounced and give him the greatest gift of his (and your) life. It was going to be great.

You eventually arrived back at your house and you smiled upon seeing it. Nothing really looked different. In fact it looked about the same as it had whenever you left. You felt as if your life was really coming back together right before your very eyes. Even though you wanted to surprise him, you imagined what it would have been like if your parents had told Patrick of your return despite knowing your intent to surprise him. You imagined seeing him waiting on the porch for you, see him come running down to greet you in the pouring rain. The images played in your mind of what that might’ve looked like and you thought that you might have been so surprised you could have kissed him. The thought of it made you blush. Why did you miss Patrick so badly? Your current relationship with him was a grey area. The last few times you had been in each other’s presence, you’d had a sneaking suspicion he’d been flirting with you, but Patrick had always been your best friend. That didn’t make the urge to kiss him any less strong.

Your parents knew that you were dying to surprise Patrick at work and they let you take the car and head out after dropping your bag off in your room. It was starting to get dark and the rain made it increasingly more difficult for you to see. Fortunately Patrick didn’t work very far from your home. It was only a little over a fifteen-minute drive and the streets were fairly quiet this time of night. You were glad you were able to leave early enough in the day on Thursday that you didn’t have to wait until Friday to come home. You didn’t live deep inside the city either and that made things a lot less stressful as well. The only thing causing you stress was not seeing Patrick. You had to listen to music on full blast the entire drive to keep yourself preoccupied. You could barely contain your excitement of knowing you were going to see your best friend within minutes. You grinned at the thought of the big smile he’d get on his face whenever he saw you. You hoped he’d run over to you and give you a big hug like he always used to do. You wanted to hear his silly jokes and sarcastic remarks. There wasn’t one thing about him that you didn’t miss.

You parked your car around back, right next to Patrick’s. You smiled fondly at the old car sitting in the parking space beside yours, remembering how many times the two of you had gone out in that car to hang out. You spent a lot of time in his car because he always insisted on driving. A lot of the time in high school, he had driven you to school. On weekends, the two of you would go out to the creek or the woods and spend all day talking and hiking and playing around. Sometimes Patrick would hide while you weren’t paying attention just to try and jump out and scare you. He always made you laugh. Patrick loved being outside and you did too. It didn’t really matter to you whether you were inside or outside whenever you were with him. He was what made all the difference.

You turned the car off and got out. You ran to the door quickly to keep from getting drenched, even though the rain was still coming down hard. It didn’t look like there were hardly any customers because of the rain.

When you opened the door and stepped inside, laughter immediately reached your ears. It was a pleasant sound and you smiled. You couldn’t wait to surprise Patrick. You stood by the door and craned your neck to see if you could catch a glimpse of him at all. You didn’t want him to spot you first and ruin the surprise.

All you could see was a young girl talking to somebody around the corner. She laughed again and smiled at the person she was chatting with. It didn’t look like she’d even noticed you walk in. You stood as still as you could and you listened. You could hear a man’s voice talking lowly in response to what she’d said. Your heart fluttered; it was Patrick.

Your smile grew as you started to approach the counter. He was going to be so surprised!

The girl that was talking to Patrick let out another giggle, this time accompanied by her putting her hand on Patrick’s arm. You had moved just enough to be able to see a sliver of his face. He didn’t say anything back to the girl, but you saw him smile at her. How many times had he looked at you like that?

Any thought of surprising your best friend had died. You didn’t feel like you would be able to look him in the eye. A spark of jealousy stabbed you right through the middle. Perhaps it was selfish of you to feel that way, considering how you and Patrick hadn’t even seen each other for months. Had you really expected him to wait for you? Neither of you had ever talked about anything like that or ever had anything beyond a friendship. You had just assumed that all your life it was going to be you and Patrick. Not Patrick and some girl and then you with some guy. It was always supposed to be you and Patrick. Right?

“Y/n?” Patrick’s deep voice made you look up, “y/n, is that you?”

Both of them had stopped talking and were looking directly at you. Patrick had walked a little closer to the counter and from the looks of it he was moments from coming around and hugging you. You couldn’t take it. Was this your life now? Were you and Patrick really not as close as you thought you were? The worst part was that he hadn’t even told you he was seeing anybody. You’d known Patrick a good portion of your entire life. Weren’t you close enough to tell each other if either of you were seeing someone? You couldn’t even bring yourself to look at him. Maybe you wouldn’t be able to ever again.

You made a soft noise of discomfort and turned and grabbed the door handle. You flung the door open and stormed out into the rain, leaving Patrick standing in the lobby in shock. He didn’t know whether to run after you or not. You were gone before he could decide.

***

You threw yourself down onto your bed and clutched your pillow tight to your chest. You wished it was Patrick so that you could strangle him. Why didn’t he tell you? And why did you even care this much? It wasn’t like you expected that he was supposed to stay single his whole life. You knew you both were bound to meet somebody eventually. It was just the initial shock. You hadn’t been prepared for it. He hadn’t told you about her and you felt like you’d just walked in on a private moment that you didn’t have a part of. Those moments used to belong to you and Patrick. Now you felt like a third wheel who was trying too hard. After all, you had come all the way back to Seattle just to surprise him. That was a huge gesture for just a friend. What had you been thinking? It all sounded crazy to you now. How stupid had you been to think he would want to see you now. You came back all because he said he missed you. That was just something people say, even if they don’t mean it. They say it because its polite, not because it’s true.

You were mad at yourself for thinking he would care to see you now. Obviously things were different. You were trying to walk back into a life that didn’t exist anymore. Your feelings disgusted you. You had no grasp on why you cared if he met someone or not. You wouldn’t have cared in high school. You knew now that that was a lie. You would have cared. Maybe it wasn’t a fear of your friendship ending, but more of a resentment that someone had gotten to his heart before you had. You cared about him more than anyone else ever had or ever would. And you loved that beautiful, stupid boy. You lovedhim.

***

“Pat, can you come over? I need to talk to you.” You held the phone in a white-knuckled grip, nervously awaiting his response.

“Sure,” Patrick’s voice was warm and soft, despite how you had fled the scene earlier and left him spinning in your wake, lost for answers, “I can be there in a few minutes. I just got off work. Hey, why’d you leave so fast? I didn’t even have a chance to say hi.”

You wanted to answer him, but your voice wasn’t about to let you form those sentences yet. You felt your throat begin to burn as you fought back tears, “just hurry. I really, really need to talk to you.”

You heard him begin to ask if everything was alright and you hung up on him.

***

Patrick was right; he was there within minutes. You were upstairs in your bedroom putting things away when the front door opened and you heard muffled voices filtering up through the vent. Your parents had obviously let him in. You listened to the footsteps coming up the staircase and held your breath as they stopped right outside your door. There was a quiet knock on your door before it clicked open a crack, “hey,” Patrick called as he swung open the door the rest of the way.

“Hey, Pat,” you beckoned him in.

He walked in and dropped his bag on the floor, half expecting you to jump into his arms. His exquisite, strong, protective arms that would squeeze you close as he would kiss you and moan into your mouth as your hands desperately pulled at his back and his hair.You pushed that thought away as you sat on the bed and put your focus on him.

He was shaking water droplets out of his hair, “it’s still coming down out there,” he sighed as he plopped himself down beside you. You watched silently as he removed his heavy boots and set them on the hardwood.

“Yes, Patrick,” you pointed toward the window, “I have a window. I can see.”

Patrick laughed lightly, nodding, “still just as hilarious as I remembered you.”

You hadn’t allowed yourself to look at him fully. Patrick didn’t like heavy conversations. He liked to make jokes to keep things light and silly, but the longer you kept your head down to avoid eye contact, he couldn’t help thinking he had done something wrong.

“Is everything alright, y/n? I mean…it feels like you’re upset with me. Maybe I’m wrong, but something’s off. I thought you missed me. Did I do something?”

“I came home because yousaid youmissed me,” a hint of exasperation snuck into your voice, “I didn’t realize you already had someone to keep you company.”

Patrick turned and looked at you, baffled by your words, “what? What in the hell are you talking about?”

“Don’t play dumb with me, Patrick. I saw you with that girl.”

Realization struck and Patrick sighed dramatically, “who? Anna? She’s a friend, y/n. We work together. She’s still in high school, for fuck’s sake!”

“How in the hell was I supposed to know that!?” you had never screamed at Patrick before and it almost was enough to scare you, “you never tell me anything anymore!”

“What’s there to tell? I’m stuck here living the same fucking life that you left behind. You left me, y/n. Don’t try and turn it around to make me the bad guy. You left. I didn’t.”

“I never wanted to leave, you huge idiot!”

Patrick got up from the bed and walked over to the window. You could see the muscles jump as he clenched his jaw in anger. He didn’t say anything. He even looked to be on the verge of crying, but you knew he wouldn’t. You had never seen him cry. Not once.

You continued, “College sucks, Pat. I hate it. I hate it so much because I’m far away from everyone and everything I care about. The worst part is never getting to see you. I came home to surprise you and…I saw you with that girl and it made me think I lost you for good. I never wanted to lose you when I went away. I know we can’t just…pick up from where we left off but… I never wanted to lose you.”

Patrick looked at you behind him through the glass, “you never lost me. And if you felt that way, you could’ve just told me. We don’t have secrets, y/n, you know that.”

“I know…I guess I shouldn’t have assumed.”

Patrick nodded and turned back around to face you, “trust me, no random girl I meet at work is ever going to mean half as much to me as you do.”

He caught your eye and you finally looked up at him, met his eyes with no fear or anxiety or distress, “You know, I think that part of the reason I came back is because I needed to tell you that I…”you took a deep, albeit shaky breath, “I love you, Patrick.”

He looked into your eyes and you held his gaze. His face lit up in radiance. He was so beautiful, this man you had come to love so effortlessly and intensely, this man that made your knees weak and chest so bubbly with emotions. His honest eyes said it all and you felt nothing but pure love for him, “I love you too, y/n. I think I always have.”

He sat down beside you again and pulled you into his embrace. His head nestled in the crook of your neck as he held you and all you wanted was to stay like that forever. He didn’t even need to say ‘I love you’. You would’ve known from the way he held you, like you were the most precious thing in the universe.

He brushed a stray lock of hair behind your ear and as he bent closer to do so, he caught your lips with his. He swallowed your surprised gasp as his lips moved solidly with your own. You kissed back without thinking. You didn’t need to think whenever it came to Patrick. Thinking was irrelevant when you already knew what you wanted.

Your hand found his while you kissed and you held it tight. You wouldn’t let him go ever again. Being apart had been hard on you. You never even stopped to think that it might’ve been just as hard for Patrick. He kissed you with fervor, built up passion from a need so deep and so raw that had finally been released after too long. You would have easily kissed him for hours.

“Don’t go back,” Patrick whispered against your lips, “don’t leave me again. I can’t…just don’t go.”

You broke the kiss, “Pat, I haveto.”

He was staring at your lips as his playful smile returned, “come on, don’t do it. You can kiss me whenever you want if you stay.”

“Patrick!” you were smiling back, “I hope you’ll still kiss me even if I do leave again.”

“I’ll come with you,” Patrick said suddenly. It was on a whim but he didn’t care. He would follow you to the ends of the Earth. He didn’t care where you went, he would go too. He would quit his job and pack his things tonight. He had enough money for a hotel room. He could figure something out. The two of you could work it out together. You were both smart and surely there was a way that it could happen…

“Patrick, listen. I’m not completely against the idea. But we have to be smart about this,” you put your hands on his shoulders as you tried to calm him down and talk him out of such a fast decision, “what if…you were to work here a little longer, save some extra cash while I take a look at some apartments near campus? You could rent a place, get a job there and we’d be close to each other. Think about it! We could see each other every day, Pat,” you leaned in, lips almost touching his, “I could kiss you every day.”

“That’s a perfect idea,” Patrick whispered to you, “I like that idea.”

His lips parted in desperation for another kiss. He was touch-starved and needy from being apart so long. You gave in and let him have another, smaller kiss.  

You exhaled. You had not expected to return home and come face to face with emotions you never realized you had fallen victim to. You never expected any of this. It was all happening so fast, but in such a beautiful way. The pouring rain did nothing to sour your mood as you gazed at the man sitting inches from you. You’d loved him from day one. He was the one you wanted to spend your life with. Everything had felt wrong when you were apart and suddenly, when he came back to you, nothing had ever felt more right.

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[josefavomjaaga]

(King Maximilian I. Joseph of Bavaria, by Stieler)

The attempts to sway Eugène to join the side of the Allies are particularly well-documented. Partially because of Marmont. The "Duc de Raguse", suffering for the rest of his life from accusations of having betrayed Napoleon, had written rather controversial memoirs, that were only to be published after his death in 1852. (Someone compared him to a sharpshooter hiding behind his own tombstone which is an image I really love.) He made accusations against several people; most prominent among them figured Eugène, whom Marmont accused of having disobeyed Napoleon's order to lead his troops across the Alpes to France and to defend French soil rather than Upper Italy, thus having been the real cause for the lost war of 1814.

By that time, Eugène himself was long dead, both his sons were dead, and even Auguste had died in 1851. However, his daughters protested vehemently against these accusations, and Planat de la Faye, who had only been in Eugène's service for the last brief years, fought tooth and nails to protect Eugène's memoir all his life. Eugène's family and friends actually went to court over this question (and unsurprisingly, considering by then Napoleon III ruled France, they won).

However, this was not the first time similar accusations had been made, and Auguste at earlier occasions already had collected testimonies, letters and documents in order to be able to refute them. In court, much of it became public, and some of it even had to be added to Marmont's memoirs.

That's why we have a detailed report by one prince of Thurn und Taxis, aide-de-camp to the king of Bavaria, about his mission to convince Eugène of the necessity to join the allies in mid-November 1813. The young man, who had served under Eugène's orders in Russia, was sent to Bellegarde's Austrian troops from Frankfurt, armed with a letter by King Max Joseph. It turned into a real undercover movie; the Bavarian had to put on the uniform of an Austrian major and present himself to Eugène's outposts as a negotiator sent by Bellegarde, was taken into custody and blindfolded by Eugène's Italians, led behind their lines and, after convincing them that he really, really had to talk to Eugène in person, locked into a church while they went to search their viceroy. On entering the building, Eugène immediately recognized his former subordinate and explained to his entourage that he was certain he would be safe around this gentleman and wanted to take him outside on a walk, for a one-on-one interview. In which his first question, according to the prince Thurn und Taxis, apparently was not "What the f are you doing here?" but "Is the king okay?«, before even opening Max Joseph’s letter.

For the rest, we can let Eugène speak for himself, because as usual, he immediately had to write to Auguste about the encounter.

Le prince Eugène à la princesse Auguste. Vérone, 23 novembre 1813.

Je t'envoie, ma bonne Auguste, une lettre que j'ai reçue du roi par un officier parlementaire. Cet officier n'était autre que le prince Taxis. J'ai causé plus d'une heure avec lui, et je t'assure que je n'ai dit que ce que je devais. En deux mots, il m'a apporté la proposition.de la part de tous les alliés, pour me faire quitter la cause de l'Empereur, de me reconnaître comme roi d'Italie. J'ai répondu tout ce que toi-même tu aurais répondu, et il est parti ému et admirateur de ma manière de penser; comme il a vu que je ne voulais entendre à rien qu'à un armistice, il m'a assuré que le roi l'obtiendrait d'autant plus « que les alliés admiraient mon caractère et ma conduite. » C'est déjà une bien belle récompense que de commander ainsi l'estime à ses ennemis. Déchire le billet du roi, ne parle de rien de tout cela. Dans l'armée on ne sait qu'il est venu un parlementaire que comme officier autrichien.

**

Prince Eugene to Princess Auguste. Verona, 23rd November 1813.

I am sending you, my good Auguste, a letter which I received from the King through a parliamentary officer. This officer was none other than Prince Taxis. I talked with him for over an hour, and I assure you that I only said what I had to. In two words, he came to me with a proposal on behalf of all the allies, in order to make me leave the Emperor's cause, to recognise me as King of Italy.

I answered all that you yourself would have answered, and he left deeply moved and impressed by my way of thinking; seeing that I only wanted to agree to an armistice, he assured me that the King would obtain it all the more "as the allies admired my character and my conduct."

It is already a fine reward to thus command the esteem of one's enemies.

Tear up the king's note, do not mention any of this. In the army it is only known that an Austrian officer came as a parliamentarian.

As Eugène would soon learn, this professed "esteem" his enemies had for him would not lead him anywhere. Neither did he receive an armistice from Bellegarde in 1813/4, nor a principality in 1814/5. But everybody agreed that Eugéne was a really great guy, and maybe that was worth it for him.

Eugène of course also immediately sent a detailed report of his meeting to Napoleon – for his own safety if for no other reason, so he could not be accused of secret conspiracies. It’s a rather businesslike letter, listing the content of the conversation in bullet points, but Eugène also repeatedly puts in declarations of loyalty and tries to reassure Napoleon that he will remain by his side.

The report by the prince Thurn und Taxis, written from memory in 1836, contains a lot more sighs and worrying and even tears on Eugène’s side about the future of his children. But the interesting part is that the prince claims to also have talked about Murat’s probable defection:

Finally, when as a last argument I began, as my instructions prescribed, to speak to him of the fairly clear willingness that King Joachim had shown to deal with the allied sovereigns, and when I added that before six weeks his right flank would be exposed, compromised perhaps, the Prince said to me: "I like to believe that you are mistaken; if, however, it were so, I would certainly be the last to condone the conduct of the King of Naples; still the situation would not be exactly the same: he is sovereign, I, here, am only the lieutenant of the Emperor."

So, in a way even Eugène recognized that Murat’s actions, if possibly questionable from a moral standpoint, were justified by the fact that Murat was an independent king, bearing responsibilty for the well-being of his country. Whereas Eugène could shed this responsibilty; after all, he was only following orders, and thus his line of conduct was never in doubt.

Plus, Eugène always knew that, even if he himself went down with Napoleon, his family had a safety net in their Bavarian royal relations. Murat had no support among the other European nations, unless he joined their cause. Napoleon’s two “Italians” were indeed in very different situations.